Bloodscry
by Nara Bluestar
Summary: The past can still be dangerous and the dead can still spill blood... And sometimes there's only one way to save the person you love. Rated for sex, violence, language. Part 3 Ch 21: The epilogue. Complete.
1. Something Found

**A/N:** Hello again, everyone! It's finally done. Thanks for all the surprisingly numerous "where's the story" prods I've been getting - lets me know I'm not just spinning my wheels! I'm back to the M rating for a reason - this one contains the big three: sex, violence, and strong language, so watch out.

Story order: In a Dark Place, Joined Lives, Secrets and Lies, Liberation, Light and Gray, Bloodscry.

And I don't own Blizzard, WoW, or any NPCs, just my own characters and story.

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* * *

It had all started with a comment, innocent enough, from a Mag'har passing through Karkun Kamil.

"Reminds me of the old Thunderlord dire wolves," he'd said, eyeing Palla. "Got that same glint in her eye like she knows just who her master is and'd rip the head offa anyone on his say-so."

Galmak's ears had perked. "You know of the Thunderlords?" he'd asked with avid interest.

"Nah," the brown orc had answered. "Not anymore, leastways. They're all dead now. Killed by the Shadowmoons, killed by ogres, killed by their own damn foolishness. But yep, that wolf… she brings back the old days, she does." The orc had lapsed into contemplative silence until Galmak had prodded him again for more details.

And now? Now they were a bit lost in the Blade's Edge Mountains.

"Maps come in handy, you know," Hyara grumbled for what seemed like the tenth time.

"And I thought I had one," Galmak scowled yet again. "It's not my fault it turned out Netherstorm isn't attached to the top of Zangarmarsh." He squinted again at the edge of their currently useless map of Netherstorm. "It does show a little bit of Blade's Edge. I wonder if we're anywhere near this part?"

"We would be very lucky, wouldn't we," Hyara said dryly. "Anyway, I don't think we should've taken that right fork in the road back there."

"Well why didn't you say so at the time!"

"Because I wasn't sure… I _think_ I'm sure now."

Galmak growled at her in mock-menace, unsuccessfully trying to hide a grin. "Alright. Let's turn around and see if you're right."

They turned their mounts and set out back down the long, heat-scarred slope. A biting wind whirled red dust around them, hazing the sky and subduing the sun, but for all that it was almost as hot here as in Hellfire Peninsula. They'd left Zangarmarsh's tepid humidity behind earlier that day and now they were trying to find Thunderlord Stronghold, which was proving more difficult without a map than they'd hoped.

"He said it was about a day's ride north of the mountains," Hyara said, squinting at the sun. "So… I don't know why I think we went the wrong way. We wouldn't have run into it yet in any case."

Galmak laughed. "We'll trust your instincts for now. I guess I'd much rather it turned out to be down in that forest than up here on the plateau."

Hyara nodded, holding up a hand to shield her eyes from the blowing grit. She couldn't say she was entirely thrilled to be here. Last month had been a true nightmare in many ways and their intention had been to have a nice long rest at Karkun Kamil. Remta had been surprised and amused when Hyara had begged him to give her a little time before sending her on any more diplomatic missions; he'd not had any intention of sending her back out right away. The Kanrethad were accustomed to taking life at a leisurely pace after so many years in hiding. Hyara had been intensely relieved and glad to look forward to several months of quiet in Nagrand's balmy sunlight.

But it was not to be. Galmak would never think of insisting on leaving again right away, but Hyara could sense the restlessness that had crept into him day by day after learning the location of his clan's ancient homeland. He had grown up on his parents' sad cautionary tales of all the Legion's horrors, but as he grew older he'd come to realize that there was a _before_. The Legion had not been the beginning; it had been the end of his true heritage.

His parents had never been able to tell him a great deal about the Thunderlords; they had been children when they came through the Dark Portal to Azeroth and they'd never been back to Draenor after the shattering. They'd never known if any of their clan had survived beyond the very few like them who had slipped through the Portal to remain in Azeroth and avoid the massacre at the hands of the Shadowmoon clan. And now, all these years later, they'd had no word that even any of those survivors still lived. Galmak had come to Outland determined that he would find his heritage and Hyara wanted with all her heart to help him, even if it meant cutting short their rest.

As they descended the slope, trees sprung up around them again, crowding close to the path with thick black-green leaves and screening out the harsh, dusty wind. Lazy heat still hovered in the air even in the shade of the forest, but the breeze that filtered through was mild. Earlier Palla and Gink had glimpsed a pack of wolves sliding silently through the undergrowth, and Galmak wondered with a thrill of apprehensive excitement if they might be some of what remained of his ancestors' ancient companions. He felt strangely uneasy here, as if the spirits of his ancestors watched him with appraising, wary eyes.

Hyara trotted along at his side humming absently to herself, a faraway look in her eyes. Galmak had thought she wouldn't be ready to make this trip so soon, but in the end it had been her suggestion. He worried about that some; he was afraid she was trying to keep herself occupied so she wouldn't have to think about the events of the past month. But he knew she was dealing with it as best she could, and all he could do was be there to give her strength and show her that nothing about her had changed in his mind, despite what they'd learned and what she'd been through. Maybe a demon hunter could see something strange in his wife, but all Galmak could see was the most beautiful woman in all the worlds who looked as though she could use a drink of water right now. He grinned suddenly and handed her his waterskin.

Hyara smiled and took it gratefully. "At least we're out of that sun here. It's remarkable the druids were able to grow these forests."

He nodded and checked on Palla's sense to the north just as he heard her howl in the distance.

_Trouble up here._

Hyara glanced at him; they exchanged a silent agreement and then they were galloping northward up the road. Somewhere ahead there was a great bellow that seemed to shake the trees and vibrate the stones underfoot. Something huge was sprawled across the road, and as they drew nearer Hyara's horse neighed in alarm and danced backward away from the widening river of blood gushing from the thing's neck. It was an ogre, and though this one was dead, his friends were not. In the trees just to the side of the road three more ogres howled, swinging massive axes with a speed Hyara wouldn't have thought possible. They were closing in on something, notching gashes out of the trees in their fury, and backing their quarry against the thick trunks. Behind the ogres' massive bodies there was a desperate shout in orcish and then another axe, much smaller than the ogres', came arcing toward a meaty, armored leg. The axe connected with flesh and the ogre roared in pain as blood spurted, but the huge creature barely paused in his attack. Hyara and Galmak leapt to the ground and sent arrows flying just as the ogre howled again and crumpled heavily to the ground with an axe buried in his stomach. The orc that the thing had been closing in on sent the barest glance toward the two hunters and turned immediately to help his comrade. One of the ogres must have seen the arrows in his friend's back, because he turned with a howl of rage and charged at Hyara and Galmak. Palla intercepted him with a snarl, leaping into the air and locking her jaws around one thick arm. The ogre shook his arm furiously, trying to dislodge the wolf's iron grip, and Gink took the opportunity to rip a ferocious bite out of the thing's heel. The ogre toppled, his neck and chest bristling with arrows.

Hyara panted, her heart racing as Gink gave the creature a careful sniff and pronounced it thoroughly dead. "I've never seen them so fierce," she gulped.

"Welcome to Blade's Edge. They grow 'em mean here." A brown-haired orc wiped his axe carefully on the grass and strolled toward the two hunters. A second orc followed, mopping sweat off his pale green face. They focused their attention on Galmak, but their eyes wandered suspiciously to Hyara. "Brolg and Olkhor," the first orc said, gesturing to himself and his grey-haired friend. "Our thanks for your help."

Galmak nodded and crouched to speak a few soft healing words to Palla, then straightened again. "I'm Galmak. This is my mate, Hyara of the Kanrethad in Nagrand."

"Ah. Heard about them last month," Olkhor said, his narrowed reddish eyes traveling over Hyara. "Hadn't heard they had any draenei with them. Just Broken, I thought."

"I'm the only one so far," Hyara replied. She didn't particularly care for the way Olkhor was looking at her.

Galmak seemed to be thinking along the same lines because he stepped casually in front of her, leaning down to scratch Gink's ears. "Is Thunderlord Stronghold down this road?" he asked.

"Several hours' ride," Brolg nodded. "We're headed there ourselves. Glad of the extra company if you'd care to travel with us."

"Are there ogre attacks here very often?" Hyara asked as they continued on their way.

"Ah, nah, not so much anymore," Brolg answered, but then he frowned and shrugged. "Least, used to be not so much anymore. Past few weeks have been a bit worse. The Bladespires've always been a plague here."

"What brings you out here?" Olkhor asked Hyara. She gave him a sideways glance and then looked over at Galmak, uncertain how much her husband wanted to reveal to these two.

But Galmak didn't seem to have any reservations about disclosing his purpose here. "I'm looking for any Thunderlords who might still be around. I don't suppose you know of any?"

Olkhor laughed nastily. "You'll want to make the burial ground your first stop then. The only Thunderlords still around here are the dead ones. Dumb bastards threw their lot in with the Legion and paid for it but good."

"That's what I keep hearing," Galmak grunted under his breath.

"Why's it you were wanting to find them?" Brolg asked curiously.

"Because I'm one of them," Galmak said.

The other two orcs exchanged a look, then regarded Galmak with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

"Well, well, now," Olkhor finally said. "Right royalty you are around here. A lost son returned home. Shall we ride ahead and inform your clansmen to prepare a feast?" He bellowed with laughter.

Galmak looked over in surprise and growled. "I didn't ask for your insults. As I recall, it was _you_ who asked _me_ why I was here. Keep your humor to yourself!"

Olkhor grinned toothily at the young orc's anger. "Actually, I asked your little blue mate what _she's_ doing here. Here to keep your bed warm, mayhap? Here to give you a son for your clan?" He roared with laughter. "We thought they were dead, but no indeed; now they're to be hoofed, blue-blooded mongrels!"

In a rage Galmak leapt out of his saddle and grabbed Olkhor by the front of his leather tunic, dragging him off his wolf. Galmak's face hovered inches from the older orc's, his eyes blazing red. His voice rumbled in a low, menacing growl. "Keep your filthy words to yourself, whoreson. Insult my mate again and you'll pay for it in blood!"

Olkhor grinned slowly, then calmly grasped Galmak's hands and twisted. Galmak stood firm and braced his muscles against the old orc's surprising strength. Just when he thought he'd hear bones crack, Olkhor relinquished his grip.

"Then I'd better keep my words to myself," Olkhor said with a sneering smile.

Galmak let him go with one last rough shove and jumped back onto his timber wolf. He thought he heard a sigh of relief and a mutter from Brolg.

"Come on," He growled softly to Hyara and she followed him as he kicked his wolf to a lope up the path, leaving Olkhor and Brolg behind. Once they were a reasonable distance from the other two orcs they slowed again. Silence settled around them. Hyara stared down at her hands, uncertain what to say. The worst part of it all was that Olkhor had spoken the truth. _No, not even that. I may never give him children at all._ Her sight blurred and she turned away to examine the surrounding trees. She felt his hand covering hers then and he spoke quietly beside her.

"We've had our share of trouble, love. People like that are just one more minor difficulty. I let him get to me too much and I only made it worse; I'm sorry for that."

She squeezed his hand and blinked away tears, turning to smile at him. "It's alright. I feel very loved when you rush to defend my honor like that."

He chuckled quietly and gripped her hand tightly as they plodded on down the road. Sadness continued to tug at Hyara's mind. She wondered if incidents like this ever made her husband regret, however briefly, the decision he'd made years ago.

* * *

Galmak approached the town gates on his own at first, but it was clear that by now some kind of word about the Kanrethad had filtered out to the rest of Outland from Garadar and the Warchief. After listening as politely as she could to a somewhat insulting warning not to disturb the peace, Hyara trotted past the guards and into town.

Thunderlord Stronghold was surprisingly large, and much to Galmak's disappointment, surprisingly new. This was the location of his clan's ancient holdings, to be sure, but little remained of that time. For all its size though, the town had a claustrophobic feel in the warm air and filtered forest sunlight. Clay shops and houses crowded in tightly packed clusters along the narrow streets, making for sharp corners and meandering approaches to all the important buildings. This, they learned, was a defensive precaution rather than by true preference of the orcs who lived here; the narrow streets and close-set buildings would quickly disadvantage any attacking ogres who managed to fight their way into the town.

"There must be something of your people left here, love," Hyara said as they settled into their room in the inn. "We'll find it."

Galmak smiled at her encouragement but he shook his head skeptically. "That's not what everyone seems to think. Gah, my parents." He plunked down on their little pallet and frowned down at the floor.

"Maybe they didn't realize it would be so important to you," Hyara sighed. "After all, these were the days they were trying to escape…"

"They were escaping the wrong days, then. I heard plenty about the Legion growing up, but next to nothing about who my clan was before the Legion. I don't think they even knew much about it themselves." He shook his head ruefully. "We may have wasted our time coming here. I pulled you away for nothing, didn't even let you rest."

"Oh, stop. It's not a waste even if you can't do anything more than see the town for yourself. Resting is all well and good, but…" _Running is better. Less time to think_.

Galmak looked at her askance and slipped an arm around her waist. Hyara pretended not to notice his look and instead thumped him playfully with her tail.

"Well," he finally said. "I'm going to have a look around in any case. Coming?"

"Of course," she laughed. He pinched her butt as they left the inn and she squealed, drawing a look from the innkeeper. Hyara blushed and made a face at Galmak, but he only grinned and pinched her again.

"Stop, you!" she hissed. "I attract enough attention as it is!"

"That you do, but it's perfectly justified– "

"Here you are," a voice said suddenly behind them.

They turned in surprise to see Brolg stepping out of a doorway into the street. Galmak nodded stiffly but the other orc clapped him on the arm.

"Wanted to apologize for earlier on the road," he said. "I, ah, can't excuse Olkhor's behavior 'cept to say that he's always been like that. Bitter, see. He's lived a long life and had more than his share of lousy breaks."

"We'll accept your apology then," Galmak said gruffly, "and hope not to deal with him again."

"Thing is…" Brolg shuffled a foot and cleared his throat. "You might want to try talking to him again." He lowered his voice. "He'd throw a hell of a fit if he knew I was saying this, but he's what you're hoping to find. He's a Thunderlord. I always thought he was the last around. He likes to keep it quiet-like 'cause… 'cause he's ashamed of what-all happened."

Galmak stared in astonishment at the other orc. "Damn," he grimaced. "You're sure about this, are you?" Brolg nodded and Galmak growled under his breath. Such luck he had. "Alright. I guess I do want to talk to him then, if he'll even talk to me."

"Think I can get him to talk to you," Brolg nodded thoughtfully. "He'll be right miffed at me at first for telling you about this. But he's just as curious about you as you are about him, I'm sure of it. He's an ornery bastard, but I'll see what I can do."

Galmak nodded and Brolg strode off down the street.

"Well…" Hyara said and shrugged.

"Yeah." Galmak crossed his arms and frowned at the corner around which the brown-haired orc had disappeared. "One more left and he's an 'ornery bastard' who insults my wife and tries to break my arms."

Hyara snorted. "They can't all be like you," she teased.

* * *

Brolg found them in the inn the next morning.

"Near as I can tell, he won't put a boot to your ass if you show up at his door," the orc said.

"Well, that's a good start," Galmak said dryly. "Considering he was the one who deserved the boot to the ass."

Hyara laid a hand on his arm. "You ought to go talk to him, love. Put aside your pride and learn what you came here to learn."

"Alright," Galmak grunted, eyeing Brolg. "If you want to take me there or point me in the right direction, I'll go."

Brolg nodded, then paused hesitantly, his eyes traveling briefly to Hyara. "You might want to bring your mate along. He mentioned something about her coming. Can't imagine he's got it in his head to apologize; that's not usually his way. But there's that chance, and it might put him in a bad mood if he's got himself worked up to say he's sorry and then she's not there."

"She's supposed to come so he can insult her again?" Galmak looked outraged. "She doesn't answer to his summons. I'm going alone."

"No, you're not," Hyara said firmly. "If it'll give you a better chance of finding out about your clan, I'll come and I'll put up with him."

The way her tail was waving told Galmak that was that. "Lead on then," he grumbled to Brolg.

They followed the brown-haired orc through the town's weaving streets. Hyara drew stares as usual, but she was at least growing resigned, if not accustomed, to the ripples of disruption she invariably caused in every Horde settlement she visited. She could endure stares and comments as long as things didn't turn violent, and she liked to believe that every startled glance she received would be more a look of acceptance the next time.

Brolg halted in front of a small, squat house only a few streets from the town wall and called a greeting before pounding on the door. They heard a muffled curse inside and then the door flew open with a bang. Olkhor squinted out at his friend, then noticed Galmak and Hyara. His lips curled around his tusks in a sneer, but he jerked his head, motioning them inside.

Brolg nodded to Olkhor, then to Galmak. "Guess I'll be going then." He looked as if he wanted to say something more, but then thought better of it and set off back down the street.

Galmak kept his face as inscrutable as possible as he stepped through the door. Now that he was here there was no sense in starting things off badly. If Olkhor wanted to throw the first insults, that was his own bad manners. Hyara followed and the older orc shut the door behind them with a perfunctory thud.

The house was tiny and had only one room to serve as living area, kitchen, and bedroom. There were only two leather-covered stools, one of which Olkhor took, so Hyara settled herself on a cushion across the small room from the two men. She drew one knee up under her chin and tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible.

"Well," Olkhor said after an awkward silence. "So maybe I do have something to say worth hearing, huh?"

"We'll see," Galmak said, trying to give the older orc only a moderate glare. "I want to hear about my clan, if you can keep a civil tongue."

Olkhor snorted. "Your clan is dead, and good riddance. You're wasting your time." He looked over at Hyara and grinned. "Good of you to bring your little mate, though. Wouldn't want her to miss hearing all the tales of your ancestors' foolishness and dishonor."

"Leave her out of this," Galmak growled. "And I know they're dead; I keep hearing that. They weren't always dead though, and that's what I want to hear about."

"Oh no, they weren't always dead, you've got that right. They found some time first to help out Ner'zhul and the Legion, massacre some blue-bloods, kill their own kind, and then be damned stupid enough to think they could go off and do as they pleased. Well, they paid for it and then the ogres cleaned up what was left of 'em. The story of your noble clansmen." Olkhor laughed.

"That's the part I know about. I want to hear what it was like before that." Galmak was staring down at the floor. He was trying to hide it, but Hyara could see shame written clearly on his face at hearing all his people's mistakes laid so brutally bare.

Olkhor's face darkened with a scowl and he sprang abruptly to his feet to pace over to a window. "There's nothing important before that. What they did during Ner'zhul's and Gul'dan's days erased any honor they once had. I'm the only one left from before everything went to hell and damned if I don't wish I hadn't just joined all the rest of 'em dead."

"Was she your mate?" Hyara asked quietly.

Olkhor froze at the window, his posture suddenly stiff and tense. "What the fuck are you talking about," he grated out.

Galmak was looking at her with a bemused frown, but Hyara pushed on, following her instinct. "Did she join with Ner'zhul and the Legion?"

The old orc turned with a face like a thundercloud. "You listen to me, you little blue-skinned bitch. I joined them, she did, nearly everybody did, and then it was too late for those as drank the blood. She wouldn't listen, even when I decided I wanted no more part in it all. There was no going back to the old days and I left." He turned with a sneer to Galmak, his voice dripping venom. "So I'm very happy for you. Happy for you and your little long-tailed _mate_ who come here looking for the good old days of your glorious ancestors; you with your comfortable lives on Azeroth, no doubt, dreaming about how nice it must have been here on Draenor before we fucked it up and stole your heritage from you." He spat on the floor and whirled back to the window, staring out at the dusty street with unseeing eyes.

For a few moments the silence was absolute. Galmak felt his face burning, but not from fury at Olkhor's insults as he might have expected. He _had_ hoped to hear about his clan's "glory days" before they'd fallen. But Olkhor was wrong about one thing: somewhere in the back of his mind, Galmak had always wanted to believe that the Legion's lies and manipulation were solely to blame for his ancestors' fall; now he was forced to confront the truth of his ancestors' fallibility.

He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly before speaking with a quiet intensity. "I grew up hearing a million stories from my parents about the Legion. My parents served the Legion on Azeroth and it's shamed them all their lives. They were fooled by everything they were told; they felt the blood lust and they killed people. I think they feel like you do. They'd rather forget the past in its entirety, good along with the bad, but the bad won't let them escape so all they end up doing is cheating themselves out of what they ought to remember." He looked up at the older orc, glaring at the man's turned back. "Well, fuck the Legion; that's not who I am and I'm sick of people telling me it is. If you want to be one of those who tells me there's nothing else worth knowing, that's your own call and I can't change it. But you'd better remember you had this chance to tell someone a better story and instead you perpetuated the memory of all the shit you wanted to stop at the time."

Galmak rose and crossed the room to the door without another word, motioning for Hyara to follow, and they stepped into the street. Before the door shut behind them Hyara had a last glimpse of Olkhor standing frozen at the window. His shoulders shook ever so slightly with silent emotion.

* * *

Galmak lay down for sleep that night with a saddened heart. Hyara lay cradled in his arms, remaining mostly silent about what had happened earlier. She knew his moods and she knew he would talk if and when he wanted to. He sighed and gave her a last squeeze before closing his eyes. He had only his imagination now to tell him what might have been, and his mind wandered, remembering the wolves they'd seen on the way here. Did the wolves remember?

And then he was himself and yet not himself. His eyelids and the darkness of the inn seemed to melt away gradually, easing him softly out of himself. He felt the weight of Hyara's head on his shoulder and the familiar poke of a horn fading away, felt the warmth of her body replaced by red sunlight. He looked down at his hands and saw they were brown in the parched sunlight, the shade of the gritty dirt beneath his feet. He was running in long, sure strides through bands of black shadow and sun between jagged red rocks, following a brown wolf many paces ahead of him. But somehow he knew she was aware of him as he was of her and they were maintaining their distance by agreement. He felt a quiver at his back and a bow in his hand; the sunlight and dust stung his eyes but didn't bother him because this was his place and he knew it well, embracing its familiarity without thought.

The wolf paused behind a boulder for a brief flash in time, then leapt with a snarl at something they both knew was there. It was another wolf, red like the dust with wild yellow eyes. The two fought, tumbling over and ripping at each other, but the orc leapt into the fray with a roar and fixed his hands around the red wolf's throat. Powerful muscles strained, ignoring the ripping claws and holding the snarling animal at arm's length. The orc roared with primal fury and brought his face close to the wolf's, just beyond reach of the snapping jaws. He held the animal's eyes with his own and felt a bond pass between them, tying them together with the blood on his arms. The animal's struggles ceased.

He was running again and he felt home ahead of him. He could feel the earth calling, leading him and welcoming him back to his people, and his feet beat faster on the ground in relief and triumph after a day of success and honor. Night fell abruptly, dark as pitch with a sky scattered with nothing but clean, milky starlight. Then he was standing in a roofless hut with a fire crackling in the center. He felt the life of the fire in his body and knew the power it held. A woman knelt at the fire in front of him. She stood then and turned to him with a smile, tall and beautiful with brown skin and midnight hair that flowed past her waist. She was pregnant and he knew beyond doubt she carried twins who would bring honor to his clan. She walked to him and twined her fingers in his hair, pressing her lips to his.

Darkness began to seep into his vision; the warmth of the fire in front of him became a warm weight at his side. Something poked his arm and he shifted, slitting his eyes to see wooden beams above his head. A body breathed calm and regular beside him. Hyara. He was Galmak once more. In the darkness he held his sleeping wife tightly and felt tears of fierce joy slide down his cheeks. The ancestors had given him a great gift tonight.

* * *


	2. Naming

**A/N:** Warning, lemon inc!

--

* * *

The heat today wasn't as dry and hungry as it had been yesterday, and the wind that made its way between the trees smelled of damp leaves and grass. Galmak lay on the ground with his head resting in Hyara's lap, gazing up at the branches swaying above him. He couldn't get last night's vision out of his mind, nor did he want to. The memory of it seemed to warm him; it had set a quiet fire burning inside him.

Hyara's back rested comfortably against a tree and her fingers stroked absently through Galmak's hair in her lap. She was humming to herself softly, watching Gink chase after the dancing patches of sunlight that filtered through the trees. He was rarely so playful and she smiled, glad of his happiness.

What Galmak had told her that morning had left her awed: he'd had a vision sent by his ancestors. She'd asked him tentatively if it might have been a dream; he'd smiled and shook his head adamantly. It had been clear as running water, sharper and more visceral than ever a mere dream could be. Her husband had been given a remarkable and beautiful gift. He'd been shown how his people had lived before the Legion came to their world. It was a strange and wonderful thing, and how could he guess the purpose? He had come here seeking his people's past, but he'd never expected to be shown so vividly.

Hyara looked down at him and smiled. His eyes were closed and she studied the familiar, beloved lines of his face. What would it be like, to be spoken to by the dead, to see the past that had once been as real as she was now? So much had been lost over so much time, so many years spent running, never to see home again… But no. Her own ancestors didn't work in such ways, if indeed they knew she existed at all. They were silent as her own family about what had been.

Palla yawned and rolled in a patch of dust, giving herself a dirt bath. Hyara laughed and Galmak opened an eye and joined in when he saw his wolf. There were sudden footsteps behind them from the direction of town, and Hyara craned her neck around the tree, spying… _Ugh_. It was Olkhor, a disgruntled expression plastering his lined face. Galmak sat up as the man came close and stopped.

"Found you," the old orc said sourly. "The innkeeper said you were out here somewhere."

"Found us," Galmak shrugged. "Now what? I'm finished with listening to your insults, so if that's what you came here for you can turn right around."

"Didn't come here for that," Olkhor snarled, fiddling nervously with a pouch at his belt. "I came here because… because there's something I can show you."

Galmak looked at him narrowly. "Oh?"

"Several miles northeast of here and up in the mountains a ways." He looked away, glaring into the trees. "Want to see it or don't you?"

Galmak exchanged a glance with Hyara, shrugged, and nodded. "As long as you don't mean any harm by this."

Olkhor turned his glare on Galmak. "Whatever honor I have left says I don't mean you any harm."

The two hunters rose and started back for town, but Olkhor stepped in front of Galmak and nodded toward Hyara without looking at her. "You can't bring your mate."

Galmak crossed his arms. "She comes."

The old orc growled but said, "Alright, she comes up to a point. She'll have to wait someplace when we get there, or forget it."

Hyara nodded and squeezed Galmak's arm, and he agreed with some reluctance.

Several miles wasn't a very long ride; it was the "up in the mountains a ways" that proved the most difficult. They emerged from under the shading canopy of the forest and wound a jagged way slowly and carefully up a narrow, eroded trail. The knife-like rocks and ridges of the mountains rose around them, baking red and orange in the afternoon sun. The trail was steep, paved in loose rocks that would have been difficult purchase for hooves, and Hyara was glad that Olkhor had had the foresight to recommend against taking her horse. They were much better off here on the sure-footed, big-pawed wolves.

Eventually they reached a point where the trail widened and carved its way through a natural pass over a ridge before dipping down again to level out on the other side. As they descended the ridge, Olkhor pulled his wolf to a halt and turned.

"This is where she stops," he said, giving Galmak a fierce scowl that brooked no argument.

Hyara slid down off Galmak's wolf. "Be careful around him?" she whispered earnestly.

He smiled fondly and leaned down to kiss her. "Whatever this is, I won't be long. You be careful here too."

She settled down to wait with Gink as the two men disappeared in the heat haze amid the jagged rocks.

Galmak's grey timber wolf and Olkhor's rust red wolf padded on side-by-side, silent as the men on their backs. The young orc wasn't sure what to make of this and didn't know what to expect from this trip, but he wondered if Olkhor's seeming change of heart might somehow be connected with his vision.

Then suddenly the path ended ahead of them in a cliff of high red rock walls. A narrow slit extended back into the rocks, lying in deep shadows cast by the overhanging rocks of the cliffs. Galmak felt a cool breeze wafting over his face from the cleft, carrying the scent of growing things and water. He looked over at Olkhor in surprise – who would have guessed there could be green life here in this arid mountain pass? – but the older orc was jumping down off his wolf and already heading for the cleft. Galmak whispered a command to his timber wolf before dismounting to follow the other man with Palla close at his heels.

It was cool between the high cliffs out of the sun, but enough light slanted in that the place was not dim. The narrow slot didn't cut straight back through the rocks as it had appeared from the mouth of the tiny canyon, and they followed many sinuous curves, even passing several intersecting passageways through the rock. The place was like a natural maze carved by the elements through the mountain with a narrow, red nether-stained ribbon of sky leading the two orcs onward overhead.

Galmak felt a strange excitement growing in him, and once again it seemed he could feel something in the air around him. Eyes and shapes, sensed rather than seen, seemed to surround him. In the wind he could almost hear the breaths of whispers and the stir of bodies, restless, peering with an eager curiosity. Faint tendrils of feeling brushed across his mind, inquisitive, but he sensed no hostility or suspicion. Something watched with a benign but uncertain intent. He shivered with almost breathless anticipation and a low growl rumbled in the back of his throat. Olkhor stopped stock-still ahead of him and turned.

Galmak swallowed. "Do you feel it?" he said softly.

The old orc seemed suddenly afraid and he shook his head, turning sharply and pressing on down the path.

Around a last corner the strip of sky overhead widened and the walls of the tiny canyon gave way to form a round, roofless room with one side open to the southwest. The path they had just traveled into the mountains spread out before them, Thunderlord Stronghold and the emerald green of the forest lying far below the red teeth of the mountains.

But it wasn't the view, beautiful as it was, that held Galmak's eye. The little "room" itself was carpeted in thick, tall grass that waved in the breeze. In the center, swathed in reeds and water plants, was a spring bubbling faintly in a slow seep to the surface. It was surrounded by roughly carved chunks of red stone standing in a circle with their broad faces turned toward the spring. They were decorated with worn markings, some of which Galmak could identify as the familiar glyphs the shamans used to signify the elements.

Galmak walked forward toward the pool as if entranced. This was his ancestors' shrine; it had survived time, the Burning Legion, the ogres, and the very elements it was dedicated to. Who knew of this place? But he knew the answer to that. There were only two living people who knew this was here.

He bent over to look into the pool and froze in astonishment. Below the rippled surface of the water hovered a brilliant ball of orange flame. It burned steadily at its radiant center without so much as a flicker, but the edges danced and wavered impishly, seeming to lick outward into the water as if daring it to extinguish them. Hesitantly, but somehow knowing full well that he should, Galmak extended a hand and touched his palm to the surface of the water.

The world froze into a silent backdrop. Not a breath of wind stirred; the grass had paused in a lattice of bent blades. The spring's bubbles rested frozen on the surface. Only the ball of flame in the pool showed any movement, the flames at its edges seeming to flicker and leap more intensely. He rose slowly from his crouch, looking around in awe and apprehension, but at the same time he felt suffused in warm calm. This was exactly right; this was intended to happen and he was right to be here.

He could still see Olkhor standing on the grass behind him, but there was a haziness to the man's figure, as if he were obscured by thick grey smoke. Palla stood nearby, paws raised, caught motionless mid-step. She too seemed hazy and indistinct.

Below in the valley, the druids' green forest had vanished, replaced by the sinuous line of a narrow river gleaming silver in the sunlight. The fortified stronghold of the Horde had given way to a sprawling village of clay huts and hide tents.

"Galmak."

A woman stood on the grass before the canyon wall on the other side of the spring. She wore only a simple dress of coarse brown cloth, nearly the same shade as her skin, and her long dark hair fell loose down her back. He recognized her immediately as the woman he'd seen in his vision, but now her stomach was flat and her dark eyes were older and wiser than the ones he'd seen sparkling with laughter and mischief before.

He knelt before her, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from her face even though he wondered if he ought to look away in humbleness. "I… I am honored," he whispered hoarsely, and she smiled gravely.

"We have chosen to honor you because you have chosen to honor us," she said softly. "You are our last son, Galmak. There are few now who remember our clan, and fewer still who remember us with fondness. Yet you are one who has chosen to look on us with understanding and honor despite the dishonor of the past."

"I don't believe there is _only_ dishonor in the past, ancestor," he said quietly.

"No, not only dishonor. But it is there, Galmak, and you understand that. It is the honor and the true identity that you seek now." She paused for a moment, studying him. "The gift of the shaman is in you. Why is it you did not follow that path?"

He looked down in confusion, frowning at the grass. "I… my father was a hunter in his younger days, ancestor. I wanted to honor him." He grinned lopsidedly. "And my wolf found me and I couldn't disappoint her." He'd always known he could have been a shaman if he'd chosen it; he'd been told that when he was very young. But he'd thought the call of the hunt had been stronger in him.

She laughed softly, like a sigh of wind. "For all that, you still have the gift and it is never too late. The ways of the shaman are the ancient ways of our people."

Galmak's confusion deepened and now he frowned up at his ancestor from where he still knelt. "But, ancestor… the ways of the hunter are also honorable and ancient. I saw that in the vision I was granted."

She smiled, and Galmak thought he glimpsed pride in her eyes. "You understand well, Galmak son of Lurigk. Yes, there is deep honor in both ways. Your mate is a hunter, is she not?"

She asked out of politeness, but Galmak sensed that she already knew anything he could tell her. He nodded.

"You and she follow the call of the hunt together. You must also feel the call of the elements on your own."

"Ancestor, I…" He stopped and shook his head in wonder. He would never deny what she said, but he was unsure how he felt about this.

She smiled again, and now he saw impish amusement light her face. "In time. Spend your years well in this world, Galmak Bloodscry."

His breath caught in his throat and his tongue seemed to freeze in his mouth, on the verge of a question. She had named him. He'd never followed that particular orcish rite of passage, the taking of a second name, and now he understood why. He'd been fated to wait for this day when his ancestors would do him the immeasurable honor of choosing a name for him. _Bloodscry_. But what did it mean?

"You and your mate will be blessed," she said softly. Her last words seemed to trail away as if on the wind and her figure began to fade slowly to grey mist against the red rock walls.

Galmak lurched as the world sprang to life around him in a sudden riot of sound and movement. He staggered to his feet and realized that Olkhor had been standing over him. The old orc looked at him now with fear and, miraculously, a hint of worry in his eyes.

"By the fuckin' spirits," Olkhor said, his voice strangely subdued. "You alright? You were just… sitting there. Couldn't get you to move, like you were in a trance. Reminded me… reminded me of how it used to be sometimes."

"I'm fine." Galmak found that he was shaking and he took a deep breath of the cool, humid air. He rested a hand on Palla's head and tried to convey a sense of calmness to his agitated wolf.

_You were gone_, she said. _I could feel you but I couldn't reach you._

He didn't answer; he couldn't bring himself to say anything yet. He was startled to find that the sun had sunk low in the sky and the light was slanting in redder than ever through the haze. Evening must be approaching. How long had he crouched by the spring, wrapped in the spell of his ancestors? It had felt like mere minutes, but by now Hyara would be beginning to worry. It was time to leave. With a glance at Olkhor, Galmak led the way back out of the cleft. He remembered the way well despite the mazelike passages, and he knew he would never forget any detail of this place.

Palla followed him closely, subdued and worried. He wanted to reassure her but he found that he needed some reassuring for himself. The ancestor had said some strange and troubling things which he couldn't begin to grasp the meaning of. _A shaman?_ It had never occurred to him that his path wasn't firmly set by this time. He'd considered himself a hunter since he was old enough to join his father in the wilds of the Barrens with a toy bow clutched in his hand. And that name she'd given him meant nothing to him. What had he done to earn it? _You understand well_, she'd said, but he didn't feel like he understood at all.

At last the two men reached their wolves and rode silently back down the path. Hyara was nowhere in sight but Gink basked lazily in the sunlight at the foot of a jagged boulder, and Galmak could sense his wife up in a shadowed cleft of the rock. She popped her head out as they came near and smiled at him.

"You took your time," she called teasingly.

He grinned as he leapt off his wolf and then caught her when she jumped down. "I'll tell you all about it soon," he said for her ears only. He kissed her, suddenly remembering his ancestor's last words as the vision faded away. Could she have meant…?

Olkhor's wolf growled impatiently nearby. The old orc was looking anywhere but at them, a ferocious scowl twisting his face. "Come on," he snapped. "We don't want to get caught up here in the dark."

* * *

Hyara watched firelight leap in front of her without really seeing it. She was imagining the shrine, the spring, and the elemental fire Galmak had told her about; she was imagining his remarkable visitation. She looked up from the fire and stared off into the dark woods in the direction of the mountains, watching the faint play of light that sifted through the leaves from the nether-washed night sky. They'd chosen to come back to their spot outside the town so they could speak freely without the risk of being overheard in the inn, but also because the outdoors was truly where they were both most comfortable. It was a bond they shared proudly.

Her husband had been given a new name today; he was Galmak Bloodscry now. The name meant little to either of them, but Hyara knew he would use it with pride as a mark of deep honor from his ancestors. She had been shocked to learn of his new name, and shocked also by the revelation that he possessed the gift of the shaman. This journey had truly yielded more than he'd ever hoped for and she was immeasurably happy for him, even if she was also a little confused and apprehensive.

Hyara shivered in a sudden breeze and cuddled into Galmak's lap where he sat with his back to a tree. He wrapped his strong arms around her and she laid her head carefully against his chest, mindful not to poke him with her horns.

"Is it what you want?" she asked quietly.

He knew what she meant. He remained silent for a moment before answering.

"I really don't know," he finally said. "I'd never once considered it again since… Well, I guess since it was time to start my training in Orgrimmar. My father started me off on the path of a hunter before that, but everybody made me aware when I went to Orgrimmar that I could choose the way of a shaman instead if I wanted."

"Were you tempted?"

"I suppose I was," he admitted.

She reached up to stroke his cheek softly, tracing her fingers over his tusks and along his lips. "What does Palla think of this?"

He grunted and shrugged. "It doesn't matter. It wouldn't change what she is to me. Even… even the ancestor talked as if I wouldn't be giving anything up by pursuing this."

Hyara remained silent in thought for a few moments, worrying that that seemed too good to be true. There was a reason virtually everyone chose only one path to follow; most people couldn't split themselves successfully down more than one road. It took too much focus and too much strength. She smiled, though, at that thought; she knew her husband had both of those characteristics in plenty.

She twined her arms around his neck and smiled up at him in the dancing firelight. "I am the mate of Galmak Bloodscry of the Thunderlord clan," she whispered with pride.

He kissed her softly and gently at first, but their kisses grew more impassioned and he lowered her to the ground beside the fire, caressing her and slowly unfastening her armor. Hyara's hands traveled over him lovingly, tugging his armor off too, and she wrapped her bare legs around his waist eagerly, rubbing her naked body against his and moaning at the contact. Galmak growled and kissed her hard, then gently pried her legs away and reached down to grab her tail. She squirmed and moaned again when he tugged it up between her legs, wet it inside her body, and rubbed it on his manhood. She arched up to him and brought his lips down to her breasts, gasping in a mix of delight and ticklishness at the way his tusks brushed over her skin.

"You are my mate, my beautiful draenei, Hyara of the Kanrethad," he whispered back with a smile, and then she felt him slide tantalizingly slowly inside her, huge inside her slick body.

She squealed softly as a delicious thrill of pleasure ran through her and she clutched at him, pushing him deep. He growled again low in his throat and bit gently at the delicate tendrils behind her ears.

"Galmak…" she moaned, arching again and clenching her internal muscles around his manhood. She wriggled beneath him and he groaned with longing. He held himself still for a moment, letting her squirm and clench around him.

"I love you," he growled fiercely and raked a tusk across her shoulder, drawing a thin scratch across her pale blue skin. He plunged deeper then, driving himself inside her with a roar and pounding his body against hers, rendering her breathless with pleasure. Hyara buried her fingers in his hair and threw her head back in a low wail of ecstasy as she felt her body pulse and shudder in release. His pumping slowed to a few last sharp, deep thrusts and he grunted in satisfaction, smiling lovingly down at her. She sighed in contentment and he kissed her slowly and tenderly before rolling her over to rest on top of him. She put out her tongue to run the tip caressingly over his chest and he twined his thick green fingers gently in her hair.

"I love you too," she sighed and rested her head on his chest, closing her eyes.

Galmak reached toward their packs nearby, fumbled for a blanket, and managed to throw it over them. He chuckled softly, knowing he would sleep now despite the excitement of the day. Hyara opened one glowing eye and smiled at him.

"One of them had better wake us before dawn," she yawned. "We're awfully close to town. I'd rather not be found like this."

He laughed again and squeezed her tightly in his arms before closing his eyes.

_Don't worry_, Gink thought wryly at his mistress, and she fell asleep with a smile on her lips.

* * *

But Galmak did not sleep right away. His ancestor's words had lit him with deep curiosity. Did he really possess the abilities of a shaman, lying dormant and unused inside him? He found it hard to believe, and yet…

Galmak relaxed himself as he would if he were tracking a particularly elusive creature and reached out toward the earth below him with his senses. He could smell the slight dampness of the forest soil; the musky, rich scent of their recent love-making. He frowned in concentration and delved deeper, sorting through the familiar catalogue of sensations around him and trying to filter out the ones he knew. He thought… yes, there might be something there, although he might have only imagined it. He lay still for what felt like forever, barely daring to breathe, with his hands resting gently on Hyara's back. He was sure he must have felt something for the merest breath of a moment, something deep and steady almost like the purr of a huge nightsaber.

No, not his imagination; there it was again, unmistakably. Something underlay all the familiar sensations, like a deep, tuneful growl. It seemed faint to him at first, but once he found it again he grasped it and focused on it until he could hear it clearly. It sounded like steady, grinding power. Hesitantly, Galmak brushed across it and found that the waves of his passing could move it. He could direct it. He grunted in surprise and broke his own concentration.

He reached a hand to his brow and found his face damp with sweat. He could hardly comprehend what he'd just done. How had he never seen it before, the power of the earth? It was as if once found, it couldn't be shut out. Galmak could feel it clearly now humming beneath his bare back, almost without searching.

Gently, he lifted his sleeping wife off of him and wrapped her in the blanket on the ground. She murmured but didn't wake and he kissed her softly on the forehead before moving close to the fire.

_Are you sure you want this? _Palla's thought cut in suddenly.

Her confusion and hurt bit him like a blade. _Wanting this doesn't mean not wanting you. Palla, you'll never lose your place at my side; you know that._

_I don't know that. I'll have to see_, she replied, and he could sense her presence fading away into the night until she was lost to the distance.

Galmak scowled into the fire, his victory with the earth suddenly turned bitter. He lay back down on the ground and bundled Hyara into his arms again, settling himself for troubled sleep. Was this worth the costs he might pay? He sighed inwardly. _I'll have to see too._

* * *


	3. Journey

* * *

Palla had been keeping her distance for a day now and Galmak was starting to get grouchy about it, as Hyara put it. He could feel his wolf flitting in and out of the very edges of his senses, but never coming near enough for the bond to feel strong and never responding to him when he called to her. How could he reassure her if she wouldn't listen to him? It wrenched him hard that she seemed to have so little faith in his loyalty to her.

And then there was Olkhor, suddenly an almost unshakable presence. It was obvious that he was being eaten alive by curiosity about what had happened at the shrine, but the old orc was too prideful to ask. Instead he'd been inventing weak pretexts to find them. Perhaps they'd like to see some of the town's defensive precautions against the ogres, or maybe they'd like to know where the best hunting was in the area? Finally, the weakest one of all: had they seen Brolg around?

"No, I haven't seen Brolg," Galmak said in exasperation. "He's your friend; you know where he lives!" He stalked off down the street toward the market, where he'd left Hyara for a few minutes after a careful glare around to make sure that no one would give her trouble.

Olkhor didn't answer but followed Galmak down the street. Galmak growled inwardly and decided to ignore him. He really didn't have any desire to keep the old orc on tenterhooks; it was simply that he also had no inclination to reveal something so personal and powerful to someone who'd shown him so little respect or honor.

Hyara was examining a length of filmy, delicate red cloth at a merchant's covered stall as Galmak approached.

"What's that?" he asked with a wink. She blushed and hastily dropped the fabric back to the table.

"Oh, you'll see," she said, sticking out her tongue at him before nodding to the merchant. The young orc woman grinned at her and bundled up the cloth. Then Hyara caught sight of Olkhor and sighed. "He found you again, hmm." The grey-haired orc was pretending to browse the goods in a nearby stall.

"That he did," Galmak grimaced. "Hopefully he won't follow me right out of town when we decide to leave."

"Well, maybe you ought to just come right out and ask him what he wants, love; make him admit it."

"I'm not going to tell him what happened. It doesn't concern him. The ancestors never chose to appear to him in all these years and I'm pretty sure I can guess why." He frowned at the old orc's turned back.

"There's that pride again," Hyara said gently. "In a way, it does concern him. They're his ancestors too, his clan. And don't forget he did take you up there, love." She knew that Galmak's reasons for not telling Olkhor were good, but she also thought she understood at least a little why Olkhor was the way he was. She didn't want to imagine the sort of horrible guilt and loneliness that would make him wallow here for decades in this place rather than running to escape it. And then here had come Galmak out of nowhere, not only Olkhor's clan but free from guilt for the sins of the past.

They had strolled across the market square and now they sat beneath a tree to one side, watching the lazy mid-day bustle in the heat. Hyara smiled, seeing that Gink had managed to coax a scrap out of a butcher and was now enjoying a scratch behind the ears.

"Has Palla…?" She trailed off and raised an eyebrow at her husband.

A pained expression crossed Galmak's face and he shook his head but he didn't elaborate.

"Hyara," he said quietly, suddenly coming to a decision. "I didn't think I ought to say anything yet, not until I was really sure, but I want you to be in this with me every step of the way. Last night, I… I think I was able to feel the earth. I could touch it, and I think I could control it with some practice."

She drew a sharp breath at his revelation and felt excitement well up in her. "What did it feel like?" she breathed, grasping his hand and swishing her tail.

He smiled, staring absently across the square. "It's like… like a hum, or like the roar of a distant waterfall." He rested a palm against the ground and his eyes narrowed in concentration. "If I focus on it… I can feel it now."

Galmak sat for a few moments, lost in the strange feel of the power coursing beneath him, until he became aware again of Hyara's hand clutching his. She was smiling proudly at him and he grinned back.

"It's odd. It feels familiar, in a way, like some of what I've been doing all along when I'm tracking something." He shrugged.

"If you had the ability to use it you might not have even realized you _were_ using it," Hyara smiled.

"But I'm still not sure of this." He frowned thoughtfully down at the ground. "I don't think it would be right to deny this in myself now that I know about it, but the fact is that I'm _not_ a shaman. I've made the way of a hunter my life and I'm not willing to give that up."

"You have a long time to pursue this and decide where it fits," Hyara said softly.

He grinned at her, growling and squeezing her tightly. "So I do. And I know you'll- " He broke off and sighed as Olkhor strode over and stopped in front of them, scowling.

"You told her, didn't you. About the shrine." He glared ferociously at Galmak.

"Of course I told her; she's my mate. Is that all you wanted to know?"

"You shouldn't have told her. It's a sacred place! She's just a- a- " Olkhor stuttered to a halt, apparently catching the murderous gleam that had appeared in Galmak's eyes. Galmak rose and stood nose to nose with the older orc, silently daring him to continue. But Olkhor seemed to think better of the track he'd started down and his eyes slid away from Galmak's.

"You told her but you won't tell your clansman," he muttered.

"Hyara is my mate and I will keep nothing from her 'til the day I die," Galmak growled. "You want to know what happened up there? I don't see any reason to tell you. You've shown no honor or respect to me or to my mate since almost the first moment you saw us. Why should I honor you with the words of the ancestors?"

Olkhor's jaw dropped and he looked like he'd just been charged by a kodo. "The ancestors? They actually spoke to you?" he said hoarsely.

Galmak glared. "Yes. They spoke to me. It was… one of the greatest honors I've ever been done in my life. And they told me some things that are none of your business."

The old orc seemed uncertain whether to continue staring in dumbfounded astonishment or be offended that Galmak wouldn't tell him more. He suddenly turned away with a growl.

"I thought I didn't want anything more to do with my clan. I thought they were all dead and gone." There was frustration and pain in his voice.

Hyara rose from her spot under the tree and came to stand beside Galmak, taking his hand. "Olkhor," she said quietly. "There's nothing evil about your clansmen who are still alive. Did you honestly hope they were all dead, that you were the last?"

He didn't answer for a moment, but his body seemed to tense when she spoke. Then he turned back around and glared at Galmak. " 'Clansmen?' Am I to take it you're not the only one?"

Galmak shook his head. "My parents are still alive. They're the only ones I've ever known of besides you now."

Olkhor nodded slowly and stared down at the ground, then up at the tree, then back down at the ground. He shuffled his feet and grimaced. Hyara felt herself smiling in wry amusement.

"Would you like to see them, Olkhor?" she asked nonchalantly.

"Yes," the old orc shot out, then seemed startled. "That is, I suppose so. Probably a waste of time. Be a change from butchering ogres around here though."

Galmak almost sighed, but he suppressed it. _Gods, she's doomed us to his company for weeks at least._ But it was only right, he had to admit, that the few remaining Thunderlords be reunited.

"Alright," he said. "They live in the Barrens outside Orgrimmar. Are you up for some traveling?"

Olkhor scowled. "Azeroth. I knew it," he muttered. But then his lips pulled into something that might pass for a smile and he nodded. "Ready whenever." He turned on his heel and strode away across the market square.

Galmak watched him disappear into a cross-street and made a face. "That was some idea you had, love."

"Well, honestly… I feel a bit sorry for him. He's so lonely here. Such a foul man."

Her husband let out a bark of laughter and tugged her tail affectionately. "Exactly. And now we have to travel with him. But I suppose you're right; it's only proper."

* * *

It was nearly a week later by the time they reached Thrallmar and arranged passage in a caravan to the Dark Portal. Olkhor, as they'd both predicted, was not the most cheerful of traveling companions, although he'd remained mostly silent despite the sneers he enjoyed tossing at anyone who looked his way. That, combined with Palla's continued animosity, had turned Galmak's mood somewhat dark. All in all, Hyara had deemed the week more than a little wearing, and she was glad they'd soon get a change in scenery when they passed through the Portal.

"Have you ever been to Azeroth?" Hyara asked Olkhor as they set out in the caravan.

He shot her the glare she'd come to believe he reserved just for her and said, "Only once. Didn't like it much."

It figured. "Olkhor, is there anything you _do_ like?" she said in exasperation.

To her surprise he actually chuckled, albeit a little nastily. "Not much."

Galmak rolled his eyes. Gods, what was he doing bringing this man to see his family?

Around mid-day their caravan merged with the Alliance caravan from Honor Hold and the combined forces set out down the Path of Glory. The heat and dust were as bad as ever, and everyone was relieved when at last the Dark Portal hulked before them in the growing dusk. The Stair of Destiny was no place to camp unless you enjoyed being woken in the dead of night by the occasional demon attack, so the little group opted to pass through the Portal that night and make camp in the relative safety of the Blasted Lands. Galmak lit a campfire near the outer edge of the Horde defensive camp and frowned absently into the darkness.

_Palla?_

There was no answering thought from his wolf, but he could sense her skulking nearby. She'd been keeping nearer since they'd left Thunderlord Stronghold and he knew she'd been sharing watches with Gink. He was glad at least for that; it seemed to indicate that she still cared for his safety. Not that he doubted it, but…

He sighed inwardly and drew his thoughts back into the circle of firelight. Hyara had a scrap of rolled parchment in one hand and was rummaging in her pack. Galmak grinned and pulled out a pen and ink vial from his own pack. She took them with a smile and settled back against his shoulder. Olkhor was lying on the other side of the fire, eyes closed.

Galmak pressed a palm to the ground and reached out tentatively. He smiled, feeling the pulse of Azeroth's earth for the first time. He squinted his eyes in concentration. Just as powerful… perhaps more so. Azeroth was an unbroken world. And yet he thought he could feel something different here; he thought he could feel a hint of the twisted agony of this land. He withdrew abruptly with a shudder. He hadn't dared reach out to the earth in Hellfire Peninsula and now he was very glad he'd refrained. Perhaps he was ready to try something different. He relaxed his body and stared into the fire.

Hyara paused with the end of the pen in her mouth, considering. Should she mention she was in Azeroth? Gheris preferred to spend much of his time in Azeroth and he was almost certainly here somewhere. She wasn't sure she was ready to face her family yet, after… But it was Gheris. If there was anyone in the world who would understand, other than Galmak of course, it was Gheris.

She suddenly felt a strange tingling heat dancing on her back and she twisted around. She gasped, springing away and dropping the ink vial with a splatter. Galmak sat calmly on the ground, one arm extended. Fire wreathed his hand, licking and dancing in a liquid play of light that cast strange whirling shadows into the darkness behind them. The flames seemed subdued somehow, glowing orange like embers but still strong and steady. He turned triumphant, joyful eyes on her and smiled.

Hyara squeaked incoherently and dropped to her knees beside him, mesmerized by the twisting glow of the flames.

"Watch," he said softly and flicked a finger. The flames danced upward in a fountain, blooming outward at the top and hovering for a moment. He flicked his finger again and the fire melted downward to wreath his hand.

"Galmak…" she whispered in awe and shook her head. She would have tackled him and kissed him if not for the flames in his hand.

"Thought you said you're a hunter." Olkhor's eyes were wide open now and he was staring at Galmak with a hint of alarm.

"I am," the young orc answered shortly and abruptly the flames billowed and sucked away from his hand to join the campfire.

Hyara couldn't take her eyes off her husband. She smiled at him radiantly and kissed him hard.

"I'm so proud of you," she whispered. He chuckled softly and pulled her into his lap. Across the fire Olkhor lay back down and rolled over with his back to them.

Galmak's dreams that night were troubled, full of people whose faces he couldn't see and whispers he couldn't understand. He called out in response and his voice echoed in a vast space, bouncing against his ears until he could no longer hear the whispers. He was glad when dawn finally came and the sun jarred him from uneasy sleep.

* * *

"Well, the zeppelin would be faster, wouldn't it?" Hyara ran her fingers through her humidity-frizzed hair, parting it and twisting the sections up around her horns away from her neck. It looked silly, but sometimes it came in awfully handy to have a pair of built-in hair accessories. Stranglethorn Vale's sultry humidity was just as bad as she'd remembered it, but for all that she loved the place's wild lushness and riotous color.

Galmak's brow furrowed and he shook his head. "The zeppelin _might_ be faster. The goblins have a bit of a reputation for sometimes, uh, taking unscheduled stops." The more cargo they moved per trip, the more profitable the trip, and the goblins weren't above detouring to last-minute pickups and drop-offs.

"I suppose it's also nice not to ride inside a gigantic explosive," Hyara said dryly. She didn't think she'd ever get used to the Horde's fascination with goblin machinery, but then again they didn't have the gnomes on their side. Gnomish technology just seemed… less lethal. Most of the time.

If Olkhor had been impressed with anything he'd seen in Azeroth, he hadn't shown any sign of it – until they reached the Vale. He'd never seen anything remotely like a jungle before and it was obvious that he didn't know quite what to make of it. Hyara found herself hiding a smile as he jumped at every rustle in the bushes and every flash of brilliant wings in the trees.

"We're not likely to run into any danger," Galmak said, eyeing the older orc askance. "Stranglethorn is well-traveled and most of the wildlife has learned to stay away from the roads. Of course, that doesn't include the hostile troll tribes," he added offhandedly.

Olkhor only grunted and glared around at the beautiful scenery.

In the end they opted for one of the more reliable ships out of Booty Bay, since they knew it would get them to Ratchet within the scheduled time and without detours. They crowded aboard in the drizzly grey dawn with what seemed like half the port town's population and elbowed their way down to the cabin they'd been assigned. They hadn't been thrilled to learn they'd have to share a cabin with Olkhor, but the ship was packed with people and there was no helping it.

Palla kept her distance even aboard the ship. Hyara had tried appealing to Gink to intervene somehow, but he steadfastly refused and she didn't push it. This was strictly between Galmak and Palla and they would have to reach their own resolution, whatever it might be. Galmak was starting to get a little angry with his wolf, though. What if they'd run into danger on their journey? Would she still fight with him, or would he look for her help and find himself alone when he needed her most? Even if she would fight, would she obey him? He'd at first believed she would sulk for a few days and be back at his side, but he feared more and more every day that this might be a breach that would last.

He was leaning on the ship's rail now, staring out at the afternoon sun slanting through ragged clouds and glazing the waves with glistening gold caps. The breeze was stiff but not unpleasant and they were making good time so far across the sea. He grinned a little at the sound of some of the less fortunate passengers being sick over the railing. Orcs had strong stomachs.

Hyara made her way over to join him, wobbling a little and placing her hooves carefully. She usually didn't have a problem with seasickness, but hooves were not exactly made for walking on a slick wooden deck and she'd already embarrassed herself once this trip by falling smack on her tail. Galmak extended a steadying hand as she came near and she took it gratefully.

"Is Olkhor still down there?" he asked, gesturing in the direction of their cabin.

She shrugged and made a face. "I haven't seen him anywhere else. You don't think I'm likely to go down there and sit with him, do you?"

He chuckled, shaking his head ruefully. "I wonder if he's regretting this yet."

Hyara raised her eyebrows. "Honestly? I doubt it, love. He surely needed to get away from there."

After a glance around told him no one was taking particular notice of them, Galmak slipped an arm around her waist. There was still no reason to court trouble even if no one could rightfully call their relationship treasonous anymore.

"And have you seen Palla?" he asked with an attempt at casualness. Hyara sighed and shook her head.

"She won't even come to me for food," he grumbled. "I don't understand it. Does she really think I'd abandon her?"

"I… I don't think that's what she's worried about, love."

Galmak frowned down at the sea. He knew what she meant. Palla wasn't worried about being abandoned; she was worried about not being needed.

"She chose me, you know," he said quietly. "Chetvek and I were nosing around in Mulgore. I ran across her when she was barely older than a cub. She took a liking to me and that was that." He smiled sadly. _Dammit, why won't you talk to me? You have so little faith in me?_

He stretched his senses to feel the fish darting in the depths below. He could feel a pod of whales somewhere nearby, warily curious at the ship gliding above them. The feel of the water was there too and he realized that he had to search less and less now before he found the elements – now that he had opened himself to them they came more readily every time. The water slipped by like smooth, cool threads across his mind, a deceptively soothing force that could twist into crushing power in an instant. He knew better than to toy with it out here, but nevertheless he allowed the feel of it to soak into his mind and become familiar.

Galmak spoke into the silence, absently stroking Hyara's tail. "I'm a hunter. I was born for it and I chose it, but for some reason the ancestors have reopened this different path for me and I don't understand why."

There was nothing to say to that and Hyara only kissed him softly. He would have to discover the reason for himself. It saddened her that he was so alone in this, that there was nothing more she could do than stand by and support him. With a jolt she realized that she must be tasting something of what he'd gone through after they'd learned what they had from Velen.

* * *


	4. Reunions

* * *

There was a surprise waiting when they stepped onto the dock in Ratchet.

" 'Ey! You, draenei!" A greasy-looking goblin waved frantically in Hyara's direction, dodging through the crowd streaming off the ship. He squinted at her for a few seconds, then nodded. "You called Hyara?" She nodded. "Right; here. A guy at the inn up the hill wanted me to watch out for ya and give ya this." He pushed a scrap of paper into her hand and scampered off down the dock.

_Hyara,_

_You're cornered fair and square. No running off this time. You can find me at the inn on the hill._

_Gheris_

She groaned. Galmak looked at her questioningly and she handed him the note.

"Well, I asked for it. I did tell him where I was going to be," she sighed. "He must've gotten that letter right away."

"His timing could have been better," Galmak muttered, throwing a glance toward Olkhor where he was saddling his wolf nearby.

"I do want to see him." Hyara shrugged. "You two could go on without me and I could stay in Ratchet for a few days and catch up later."

"Hah. I'm not going to leave you to ride through Horde territory on your own."

She crossed her arms and frowned. "Then what do you suggest? I'm going up to the inn to see my brother. Olkhor can like it or not like it."

Galmak snorted and turned his wolf to follow as she trotted off toward the southern edge of town. Olkhor followed too, all the while glaring warily around at everything and everyone they crossed paths with. Galmak marveled that Olkhor hadn't gotten himself killed before now by sending one of those unprovoked glares at the wrong person.

"Can't be much further, huh?" the old orc suddenly asked. "Seem to remember Ratchet's in the Barrens."

"It is," Galmak answered. "They live north of here, less than half a day's ride from Orgrimmar. We're stopping at the inn first so Hyara can see her brother."

Olkhor's lips curled in a sneer and he muttered something under his breath. Galmak sighed inwardly.

According to the innkeeper, Gheris had indeed been staying here for a few days, but he was out at the moment. They settled down at a table to wait indefinitely and ordered drinks. Hyara kept glancing apprehensively at the door, glad that she'd soon be seeing her brother but also worried at the tone of his brief note. It sounded suspiciously like he was aware of her hurried flight from Exodar, and she was not the least bit eager to explain that.

"This brother of yours been to Outland?" Olkhor asked from behind his mug.

"Of course," Hyara said. "He was born there just like I was and he's been back."

"Born there, you say." The old orc frowned into his mug and swirled the contents.

Hyara raised her eyebrows at his sudden interest. "Yes. I wasn't very old when we left and I don't remember very much from then. But Gheris is quite a bit older and I… I imagine he remembers more. He never really talks about it."

"With good reason," Olkhor snapped and took a huge gulp of ale.

Galmak shot him an annoyed look; Hyara just shook her head.

A huge hand suddenly covered her eyes and she yelped and jumped up, even though she knew just whose hand it was. She spun around and threw her arms around her grinning brother. Galmak stood, chuckling, and clapped Gheris on the shoulder.

"Well hello, you two," Gheris laughed. "Just passing through, huh?"

"Lucky for you," Hyara teased.

"Lucky I caught you, that's for sure," he responded. "You're harder to catch than a murloc in a swimming contest." He gave her a look that suddenly made her feel guilty. "How have you been, Galmak?"

"Not bad," the orc grinned. "Just on our way to visit my parents. Oh… this is Olkhor, a, uh, clansman of mine." He indicated the grey-haired orc, whose face seemed to be stuck between a grimace and a glare at the big vindicator.

Gheris seemed unperturbed and grinned at the orc, then turned back to his sister.

"We have a lot to catch up on," he said casually, but Hyara could hear the meaning behind his words and she felt her stomach sink. Galmak caught his tone of voice too and glanced at Olkhor.

"How about we let you two talk for a while," the young orc said. "Olkhor and I can head out for a bit and grab a few supplies." He squeezed Hyara's hand and smiled at her reassuringly. It was up to her what she told Gheris, but she clearly was going to have to tell him something.

Hyara watched with some trepidation as her husband left the inn. What exactly did Gheris know? Unfortunately, she was about to find out. He raised his eyebrows at her across the table.

"Olkhor's not very chummy," she said hastily.

Gheris laughed. "So I noticed, but that's not what I want to talk about."

"Right to the point," she muttered.

"Right to the point indeed. You sent Grandfather into an absolute storm recently and I want to know why. Why did you leave Exodar without telling him or seeing anyone else?"

She stared down at her lap. "Gheris, I… What happened after I left?" she said in a small voice.

He crossed his arms. "Well, for one thing, Grandfather was positively livid. I've never seen him so angry as when he told me about it, so I can only imagine what it must have been like at the time."

Hyara looked up in distress. "He was angry at me?"

"At you? Light, no. Not at first, anyway. At Velen. He said the Prophet went to see you one morning and then by the end of the day you were gone without a word. When Grandfather found out, he really let Velen have it; really lit into him, I gather." Gheris cocked a dark eyebrow at her. "I also gather that Grandfather must've had some idea of why Velen went to see you and that's what made him so angry."

Hyara's face had darkened in shame and she covered her eyes with a palm. "Oh Light, Gheris. Am I the cause of a falling-out between them?"

"Well, that's the other odd part. Whatever it was that Velen told Grandfather made him back down. He wasn't angry with Velen anymore; he was angry with you."

She felt her eyes watering and she tried to hide it by staring down at the table. "Angry how? Angry as in… he never wanted to see me again?" she finished faintly.

"Why in hells would that be? He's worried. I've never seen him so worried. It's making Mother and Father worried and it's making me crazy."

"I- I just had to leave. I didn't want to do that to him but I couldn't stay." She couldn't bring herself to look up and meet his eyes. So her grandfather knew. Velen had had to tell him to make him understand.

"Hyara, why did you have to leave? What did Velen say to you?" Gheris asked earnestly. He frowned. "Was it something to do with Galmak?"

She shook her head and then glanced around at the inn's common room. There was no one near and no one was paying them any attention.

"Gheris… please, I just can't tell you. I don't know what you'd think of me and I don't want to find out."

"Oh, come on. Did you do something terrible? Whatever it is, it can't be worse than anything I've done, right?" Gheris reached out a dark blue hand and caught her paler one across the table. Hyara felt her tears falling freely now and tried to pull her hand away but he held on.

"Was it… something about that time?" he asked quietly.

She nodded and wiped a hand across her eyes.

"Then why would you think we wouldn't understand? We're your family; we're your first line of defense. Well, alright, maybe second to Galmak. Hyara, there's nothing you can't tell me." Distress and hurt were evident in his voice.

"Gheris, this is something you don't want to hear." She tried to keep her voice steady but she knew she wasn't succeeding very well. "You think Grandfather is worried, but- but it may be like I said; he may never want to see me again."

"He _is_ worried and he _does_ want to see you again! Light damn it, Hyara, what is this about? Do I have to ask Galmak?" He ran his hands through his midnight blue hair in agitation, spiking it even more than usual.

She covered her face with her hands and mumbled something. Gheris leaned forward and pulled her hands away, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"Tell me or I'll duel Galmak for it," he said.

She couldn't help bursting into tearful laughter. He grinned and wiped her tears. Hyara took a deep breath and turned her head to gaze unseeingly out the window before speaking in a voice so low that Gheris had to lean close to hear.

"That rune I stood on back then turned me part man'ari. I didn't know until Velen told me."

Conversation hummed quietly in the room around them; mugs thudded on tables, dishes clinked. There was only silence from the other side of the table and Hyara kept her eyes locked firmly on the window, watching the distant swell of the sea on the beach. She heard a chair scrape across the floor and she knew Gheris was getting up to leave and she'd never see him again.

But then he was kneeling on the floor in front of her and he folded her in his arms, hugging her tightly. She squeaked a little as he squeezed the air out of her and he chuckled softly.

"That's the best you can do to surprise me?" he said. Hyara shook her head in bewilderment. He pulled back and smiled. "I always knew you had a bit of a demon in you."

"Oh, Gheris…" She squeezed her eyes shut and felt herself smile through her tears.

He was silent for a moment and she caught the sense that he was searching her.

"I can't say I'm sure I can tell," he finally said quietly. "It might be my imagination or it might be only because I know what to look for. What made Velen tell you?"

"O'ros found it first but didn't know what it was." She sighed. "Velen was right to tell me. He knew that… that he wouldn't be the only one to recognize it and it might be dangerous for me not to know."

Her brother nodded and she saw pity in his eyes. "Hyara, whatever that might have done to you, I can't tell that it's really changed you at all. You're still my sister. You should never doubt how much your family loves you."

"Gheris, please don't tell Mother and Father. Please."

He sighed and shook his head ruefully. "Alright. There's not really any reason for them to know. But I'm going to write to Grandfather right away and let him know I caught up with you. You did him a bad turn by running away, you know, although I can understand it."

"You don't know what it's like to learn that about yourself all of a sudden. I thought it was behind me and as dead as I could make it, but…" She bit her lip and looked away, ashamed of her weakness and ashamed that he knew so much.

Gheris only hugged her again and she threw her arms around him. She looked up just as Galmak stalked in the door with Olkhor trailing him and looking smug.

"They're back," she whispered and Gheris let her go and stood.

"Well, did you find everything?" the vindicator asked cheerfully.

"I guess you could say that," Galmak answered with a glare toward Olkhor. The older orc only snorted and crossed his arms defiantly.

"Galmak, if it's alright with you, I'd like to ride along with you 'til you get to your parents' place," Gheris said, resting a hand on Hyara's shoulder. She looked up at him in surprise and smiled, blinking away the last of her tears. "I can turn right around and come back once we get there," he continued, "but I'd like to spend a little more time with my sister without delaying you any longer."

Galmak looked surprised too, but he nodded. "Sounds just fine," he grinned. "We'll be glad to have you along."

Gheris trotted off, whistling, to settle his tab with the inn and Galmak shot Hyara a questioning look. She let out a small sigh and nodded minutely. Olkhor dropped heavily into a chair, grumbling.

"Another blue-skin to ride with us, huh," he grunted.

"Keep it to yourself, Olkhor," Galmak snapped. "I suggest you get some practice now so you can keep a civil tongue under my parents' roof."

The sun was still high and they soon set out north through the swaying tall grass. The air was warm and the sky shimmered blue through the golden heat rising around them. Even Olkhor's customary surly mood seemed to have no effect on Gheris, and the vindicator joked and talked good-naturedly from atop his massive grey elekk. Hyara found her spirits rising even in the wake of their earlier conversation; it seemed that none of that mattered here in the warm sunlight with her brother being his usual cheerful self. But still, Gheris, being who he was, sensed a potential for mischief and couldn't resist prodding.

"What's your story, Olkhor?" the vindicator asked at one point. Hyara groaned inwardly and shot her brother a reprimanding look that went ignored.

The orc seemed startled to be spoken to but he recovered enough to send Gheris a nasty smile. "My story, huh? It isn't a very pretty one, blue-skin; I don't think you'd want to hear it. I'm not one of these soft young Azeroth orcs." He grinned at Galmak.

"Ah, I see." Gheris nodded. "Draenor, Ner'zhul, the Legion; all that." His voice was light but the sway of his tail betrayed his sudden tension to Hyara's eyes.

"Yes, all that and a hell of a lot more," Olkhor said gleefully.

"He hates his own story so much he's convinced himself he loves it," Galmak growled with a disdainful look at the older orc.

"And what's _your_ story, blue-skin? Besides being unfortunate enough to have a sister mated to one of the green-skinned monsters!" Olkhor laughed.

Gheris eyed him steadily and Olkhor's laughter died. "I expect at least part of my story is similar to yours, only seen from the other side of the fence. But I'm lucky enough to have seen plenty of good come afterward so I can let what came before rest. And anyway, I thought he was a soft young Azeroth orc, not a green-skinned monster."

Galmak and Hyara both snorted with laughter; Olkhor looked a little perturbed that Gheris hadn't risen to his bait. The old orc hunkered down sulkily in his saddle and kept his silence after that.

Galmak decided to do a little mischievous prodding of his own. "So Gheris, any women in your life lately?" He grinned.

"Oh gods, don't encourage him," Hyara said, making a face.

But Gheris laughed and nodded. "Actually, yes," he said casually. "There's someone I've been running into on purpose quite a bit lately. She lives at Forest Song." He grinned smugly at his sister. "Maybe you can meet her sometime."

Hyara looked stunned. Actually meet her? That was certainly a new development.

Galmak felt a brief stab of focus and then satisfaction pass through his bond with Palla and he knew that somewhere to the west she'd caught herself a meal. He stared in her direction around Gheris's huge elekk but he couldn't catch sight of his wolf in the waving grass. At least she was still following him closely. He wouldn't even let himself consider the possibility that one day he would wake up and she'd be gone; the bond snapped like a brittle old bone.

But the late afternoon was golden and warm with just a hint of fresh coolness in the wind that spoke of the coming evening, and Galmak pushed his worries to the back of his mind. Somehow going home still felt like the answer to all his problems and he drank in the familiar sights and scents around him contentedly. He smiled, listening to Hyara and Gheris talk, and he imagined that they must have shared this easy camaraderie all Hyara's life. He wondered a bit wistfully what it would have been like to have grown up with a brother or sister.

They were drawing closer now and so far they'd run into no other travelers out in the relative wilderness of grass east of the Crossroads, but now up ahead at the edge of feeling he could sense the keen, steady presence of a riding wolf. As they traveled nearer, he searched further and ran across another presence – the feeling was unmistakable. Galmak suddenly whooped a command to his wolf and surged forward ahead of the group. The wind streamed past his ears and his wolf carried him up a low rise and down into a hollow where a single gnarled tree stood with a snow-white riding wolf resting lazily in the shade. The wolf raised her huge head and growled, but then she caught his scent and the growl turned to a happy whine. A woman with long, dark violet hair stepped around from the other side of the tree, a bundle of herbs in her hand. Galmak jumped off his wolf, ran to her, and folded her in a hug.

"Oh, my son," Serlah sighed and buried her face in his hair. "We must learn to expect you at the most unexpected times." She smiled and held him at arm's length, taking in his appearance with a mother's critical eye.

Galmak laughed and hugged her again. "I know, it's been too long once again. But here I am now, and I intend to stay awhile if you'll let me," he grinned.

"You always have permission for that," Serlah smiled back, carefully tucking the bundle of herbs into a pouch at her waist. "And where is Hyara?"

"She's not far." His face grew serious now and he laid a hand on her shoulder. "Mother, there are some things I need to talk to you about."

Serlah's heart sank at his tone and she silently prayed that he'd found no worse trouble lately than he'd already had in his young life. It had been a dark day when Galmak had finally revealed what had befallen him and his mate in Winterspring.

He saw the worry in her eyes. "It's nothing awful," he reassured her. "I went looking for any remnants of our clan in Outland and… well, I found a lot more than I'd ever hoped I would."

Serlah's brows knit incredulously and she looked away toward the lowering sun. "What did you find, Galmak?" she asked quietly.

"For one, I found another Thunderlord. His name is Olkhor and he's a pain in the ass."

A look of shock passed over her face. "You found a survivor? I had not realized…"

Galmak sighed. "I know. But Mother, I mean it when I say he's a pain in the ass. He's old… he remembers a lot of horrible stuff. Hyara has the right of it when she says he's desperately lonely and he's been so bitter for so many years that it's made him pretty downright offensive, but I didn't figure I could deny him the opportunity to see what remains of his clan so I brought him along here."

Serlah shook her head, gazing at him sadly. "No. You did right, Galmak. He's our blood and we will welcome him and do our best for him."

She looked over his shoulder, seeing now what Galmak had sensed as they talked: the others had caught up to him. Gheris's silver plate-clad bulk and his giant elekk cut an unmistakable figure, and Serlah frowned slightly. "Who is that?" she asked, nodding toward the elekk.

"That's Hyara's brother, Gheris," Galmak answered. "He found us in Ratchet. They haven't seen each other in quite a while and he wanted to steal a little extra time with her so he decided to ride up this far with us."

Hyara spurred her horse forward and dismounted, and Serlah greeted her with a warm hug. The orc woman ran a critical eye over Hyara as well and smiled. "You look healthy," she pronounced and Hyara laughed and nodded.

Olkhor still sat astride his wolf, but he was staring intently at Serlah. She turned to him, meeting his eyes and walking over to stand beside him.

"I am Serlah, Galmak's mother and a daughter of the Thunderlord clan. You are welcome in our home, brother." She bowed slightly.

The old orc stared at her with a face blank as a snowy slope. "I'm Olkhor. I'll be glad to take your welcome, m-my sister." His voice faltered hoarsely at the last and his eyes slid away from her in a glare toward the grass.

Serlah nodded gravely, her face also betraying no emotion, and she glanced up at Gheris where he'd hung back and was doing his best to be unobtrusive.

Galmak figured there was no reason not to introduce Gheris to his mother, and he stepped forward to Serlah's side. "Gheris," he called and the vindicator dropped his air of indifference. "Mother, this is Hyara's brother, Gheris," Galmak said. "And Gheris, my mother, Serlah."

Gheris jumped nimbly off his elekk with a clank of light plate and bowed to Serlah. "Glad to meet you," he said with a grin.

Serlah inclined her head slightly and smiled. "And you also." She hesitated perceptibly, but then continued, "I don't wish to cut short your visit with your sister. You are also welcome to join us."

The draenei looked surprised and glanced toward Galmak, who grinned and nodded. Hyara looked overjoyed and Gheris chuckled. "I'd be honored, thank you. Maybe I can make myself useful if there's anything you'd like doing around your farm."

"Perfect. Now I'm off the hook!" Galmak said, and everyone but Olkhor laughed.

They arrived at the small farm before sunset in the first warm amber light of the evening. Galmak's grey-haired father stepped out of the little house as the group trotted up and dismounted, a huge grin cracking his lined face. He immediately charged his son and hugged him hard before giving Hyara a warm hug and then raising a questioning eyebrow at Galmak with a nod to Olkhor and Gheris. Gheris greeted Lurigk with his typical disarming grin and the orc seemed satisfied for now to accept him for Hyara's sake. Only Olkhor hung back with a subdued scowl, watching uneasily and unable or unwilling to share in the little family's happiness. Galmak steered his father toward the old orc and Lurigk reached out a hand to Olkhor.

"Dad, this is Olkhor. He's one of our clan from Outland," the young orc said.

Lurigk looked stunned for a moment but then he grinned widely and clapped Olkhor on the back. "Welcome to our home, brother," he said. Olkhor only grunted and nodded curtly. Hyara thought he looked a little overwhelmed by all the sudden attention.

They crowded into the little house and at once the pungent, heady scents of Serlah's drying herbs greeted them. Gheris stood awkwardly by the door, feeling as much an intruder as Olkhor did, but Hyara grabbed his hand and pulled him over to sit at the table, giving up her own chair. He ducked carefully to avoid the herbs that festooned the ceiling in colorful bunches.

Galmak did most of the talking with his parents, catching up on their lives, the various goings-on of the Barrens and Orgrimmar, and filling them in on some of the latest events of his own life. As always seemed to be the case, there were many things he chose not to mention. Perhaps someday they could know some of it, but now wasn't the time. He avoided the details of his visit to the ancestors' shrine, choosing to wait until later to broach the troubling subject of what the ancestors had revealed. Instead, he spoke lightly of their travels in Outland and their time at Karkun Kamil. Hyara interjected occasionally, but mostly she was content to listen to her husband. She loved to watch Galmak as he told a good story, loved the animated light that entered his eyes and the way it seemed to fuel his easy humor.

Olkhor sat in sour silence the whole time, stealing occasional furtive looks at the rest of them. He showed no inclination to join the conversation, which was no surprise to Galmak and Hyara, but Lurigk seemed puzzled by the old orc's ill humor.

"You should come visit Karkun Kamil sometime," Galmak grinned at his parents.

Lurigk snorted and shook his head. "That's a long journey for us, son. Can't say I ever thought to go back through the Dark Portal, either."

Serlah nodded in agreement but she smiled at her son. "Perhaps we might someday. There's still much there the two of you haven't seen, isn't there."

"We're expanding slowly," Hyara smiled. She glanced at her brother. "Gheris has seen more than we have. You could tell us all the best places to go, hmm?"

"Oh, well, I suppose that's true," the vindicator answered with a shrug. "But I think you've found the best places already. I'll get out to Karkun Kamil sometime soon." He smiled back at his sister.

Serlah seemed to undergo a brief internal battle, then asked, "Is it… very different?"

Lurigk stiffened and laid a hand on her knee. "Now, how would he know that?" He gave a strained laugh. "He can't be old enough…" He trailed off weakly, suddenly uncertain. Olkhor was glaring so ferociously at the opposite wall it looked as though he might burn a hole through it.

Gheris cleared his throat uncomfortably and looked down at the tabletop. "It's very different," he said quietly. "Some of it's unrecognizable. But I wasn't very old, uh… at the shattering so I don't remember everything as it used to be." He smiled then and his tension seemed to lift away. "There are still some amazing sights left. Nagrand is as beautiful as ever and you've never seen a lightshow as good as what Netherstorm can dish out."

Deep twilight had dropped around the little house by now and warm lamplight pooled out the windows. The grunting and fussing sounds of the animals settling down for the night drifted in with the hum of insects. Gheris glanced speculatively outside at the growing darkness, wondering how quickly he could make it back to Ratchet if he rode most of the night. He sighed and stood, resting a hand on Hyara's shoulder.

"I'm afraid I need to start back now if I'm to make it to Ratchet by morning. Serlah, Lurigk, thank you for your hospitality." He smiled and bowed slightly to them.

Hyara jumped up from where she'd been perched on one edge of Galmak's chair and threw her arms around her brother, who chuckled and lifted her slightly off the ground in a hug.

"Hey, just meet me in Ratchet again soon, huh? You're the one who has a tendency to disappear!" he said softly.

"Ugh, don't remind me," she whispered back. "But I'd like that. I'll be there."

Serlah had risen too and was watching them with a small smile. She glanced questioningly at her mate, who shrugged.

"Ah, Gheris, there's no need for you to rush off tonight. We'd be glad for you to stay here a while and have some proper time with your sister," Lurigk said gruffly.

The draenei looked surprised and seemed unsure whether to accept the invitation, but Hyara whirled, stepping around the table and pulling a startled Lurigk and Serlah both into a hug.

"Thank you," she said with a smile, and Serlah laughed softly.

"Well," Gheris grinned. "I'd be delighted. And I'd also be delighted to be put to work while I'm here to make up for any trouble I might cause."

Galmak laughed and Gheris looked a little sheepish. "Not that I'll try to cause trouble, of course," the vindicator added hastily.

"In that case, we'd better get ourselves set up outside for the night," Galmak said and led the way out the door after grabbing a bedroll and a few things from his and Hyara's packs against a wall.

He whistled as he walked in the warm night air around to the back of the little round house, past a few of the holding pens for the animals, and across a small grassy stretch to a short line of three trees growing side by side. Trees were something of a rarity in the Barrens and his family cherished these three almost like old friends. With such a tiny house, the outdoors was a natural extension of it and these trees had become like an extra living area. They'd given countless days of shade in the parching heat, and Galmak, his friends, and his parents' friends had all spent many nights sleeping beneath them or talking together and staring up at the dark leaves dancing across the stars. Nights in the Barrens were always warm and breezy and gloriously unclouded, so Azeroth's stars blazed brightly here.

Galmak laid out the bedroll in his favorite spot and sat down with Hyara as Gheris and Olkhor each chose their own spots.

"We can get a fire going if you'd like," he said, indicating an empty fire-ring nearby.

Gheris shrugged and yawned as he unfastened his armor and laid it carefully aside. "Not on my account; it's plenty warm enough." He gazed around at the open darkness stretching across the plains toward the hulking blackness of the nearby ridge to the west. "Gods, Galmak, I'm jealous. Was this your bedroom as a kid?"

The orc laughed and nodded. "Most of the time. I slept inside once in a while. I was lucky though; we're close enough to Orgrimmar here that there's usually not much danger from the centaurs or Bristleback. If we'd been a little further out my parents probably would've been hesitant to let me sleep out here."

Olkhor was snoring loudly from his bedroll, but Hyara wasn't buying it. "He's definitely faking that," she whispered. Galmak snorted and nodded in agreement; Gheris grinned and mimed poking the orc with a stick. Hyara mouthed "nooo" and shook her head frantically.

"He'd probably bite your head off," she whispered to her brother.

"I think the three of us are liable to bite _his_ head off if he keeps that up all night," Galmak said, raising an eyebrow. "We know you don't snore like that, Olkhor. We've been traveling with you for two weeks, remember?"

The old orc grunted and opened one eye, then rolled over and put his back squarely to the three of them. Galmak grinned and rolled his eyes.

They sat talking quietly after the last lamp inside had been snuffed and only the Barrens' spectacular starlight poured down on them. Boars grunted sleepily in their pens nearby and the wind swished through the grass in a soft backdrop to their hushed conversation.

"Did you really mean it when you said you'd come visit us soon at Karkun Kamil?" Hyara asked wistfully.

"Of course," Gheris replied. "I've always enjoyed going to Nagrand, and if I know you're there that's all the more reason to go." He traced a finger through the dirt and his brow furrowed. "I wish I could convince the rest of the bunch to go back. I think… I think it might do them some good to see it now. At least some of it. I think they see Outland as a tomb they don't want to reopen and I can't say I blame them for that. It took a lot to convince myself to go back." He paused and looked away into the dark toward the ridge. "But I'm glad I did. It's still a world and life goes on." He seemed to shake himself then and smiled sheepishly as if he'd said more than he'd intended to.

It was the most Hyara had ever heard him say about his feelings toward Outland. There were a thousand questions she wanted to ask but she was unsure if she really wanted to hear the answers, and she wanted nothing to mar the tranquility and companionship of this night. Galmak was staring down at the ground with a slight frown creasing his face and she stroked a hand lightly over his back. He looked up at her and smiled just as Gink came padding out of the shadows to plop down at Hyara's side with a massive, noisy yawn. They all shared a laugh and the awkwardness of the moment passed.

Galmak watched Hyara scratch Gink behind the ears and he reached automatically for Palla's sense. She was somewhere to the north at the very edge of the bond, asleep. He worried for an instant for her safety, but of course she knew the Barrens every bit as well as he did; every tree, ridge, and ravine was scored into the perfect mental map they'd drawn together over the years starting in his childhood. Palla was safe and she was still within the bond's reach. He ached to have her here at his side and he gave her sense a gentle tug, urging her to come closer. He felt her wake and then abruptly her sense faded out of reach. Galmak almost growled in anger and he couldn't stop his fists clenching suddenly in frustration.

_You can't run from me that way._ A slight smile curled around his tusks and his eyes narrowed in concentration as he reached out to the earth. His senses traveled along the hum in the ground toward where his wolf had been and he searched until… There it was, a slight disruption, like an imprint of where she'd been on the ground. He followed the fainter ripples she'd caused as she'd moved away, and the earth seemed to call to him, echoing her movements. She hadn't gone very far, only far enough to fade the bond. _Damn you, Palla, I still see you_. He was surprised to feel the hum of the earth respond to his frustration, grumbling lower and grating like the slow, powerful movement of massive machinery. There was a sudden superficial resonance like a pebble tossed on the surface of a pond and he realized with a guilty start that something of what he was doing must have startled Palla somehow. His senses fled abruptly from the earth back into his body and he saw now that Gheris was staring at him in bemusement. Hyara looked uncomfortable.

"I just asked what in hells is going on over there," Gheris said. "You didn't even hear me, did you? You looked like… Well, I won't even say what you looked like, as we're in mixed company."

"Ah… I was just searching for Palla," Galmak said shiftily. "She's not been very happy with me lately and she's been staying far away."

"Hm," Gheris grunted. "I won't pretend to understand hunters and their pets." He eyed Hyara and she stuck out her tongue at him. Gink snorted and flopped onto his side.

More whispers awaited Galmak in his dreams when he finally laid down for sleep. Voices clamored in eerie susurrations inside his head and once again he cried out, drowning them with his own voice. He couldn't understand them and he couldn't understand what he was calling to them, but they seemed closer somehow and it was as if they hovered just beyond the edge of intelligibility. He fell silent until the echoes died in the indefinable space around him and the whispers resumed in a low, incomprehensible chorus.

His voice came again then, unbidden. "Sunset," he said, inexplicably, and he felt some more conscious part of his mind puzzle at it.

"Love, you're hurting my arm," another voice whispered.

Galmak surfaced abruptly from sleep and he opened his eyes to see Hyara's luminous eyes wide in the darkness beside him. He realized he must have been squeezing her hard and he loosened his grip and kissed her in apology.

"I was dreaming," he whispered. "Not a very pleasant one, either."

"You too, hmm," she sighed and settled back down at his side. "I dreamed I was back in the mountains in Azshara and… and Raizha was screaming something at me but I couldn't understand what she was saying."

He grunted and stroked his fingers along one of her horns. "Sounds a little familiar," he said, thinking of the voices. The two of them never seemed to escape nightmares for long and unfortunately it was something he'd never gotten used to.

Galmak rolled onto his side, wrapping his arms around her protectively. He put his mouth close to her ear and began to sing very softly. Hyara smiled and closed her eyes again, falling fast asleep to the sound of his voice.

* * *


	5. Sweet Rage

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks a bunch to my reviewers! It really means a lot to know y'all are liking it!

* * *

The Barrens in the late morning was hot. Just how hot, Galmak had let himself forget until now. He straightened from setting down an armload of lumber and fanned a huge hand at his face and bare chest. Gheris didn't seem to be faring much better in the heat, but he was whistling cheerfully nearby as he finished hammering a rail on the new boar pen they were helping Lurigk build. It was a glorious, blue-skied day to be outside even if it was hot, and Galmak grinned to see his father working right alongside a draenei. That was certainly not a sight he would have expected to see only a few short years ago. Even Olkhor had agreed without hesitation to help and had been sawing wood in stolid but industrious silence.

Galmak scanned the open plains around the little farm for a moment before resuming his work, but Hyara was nowhere in sight. She'd volunteered to go out with Gink earlier that morning and bring back meat to restock their supplies – Serlah had jokingly complained that Galmak, Gheris, and Olkhor seemed to eat more between the three of them than she and Lurigk ate in a month, and it had only been a few days since they'd arrived. Galmak knew his wife would be safe out on her own; not only did she have Gink with her, he'd been surprised and strangely touched to feel Palla slink discreetly off after them when they'd left. Palla knew the usual patterns of the Horde's movements in the Barrens and she would warn them away from any potential danger.

Around mid-day they all took a break and collapsed in the shade of the trees. Serlah also took a break from her herbs and potions to come sit with them, bringing out mugs of cool water and a basket of bread and meat. It was almost too hot to eat anything, but they were famished after their morning of work and ended up polishing off the entire basket, much to Serlah's wry amusement.

Galmak eyed his parents as he ate, wondering when he could get them alone for a talk. It had been a few days and he'd still had no opportunity to speak with them in more detail about his visit to the Blade's Edge Mountains.

Some instinct nudged suddenly at a corner of his mind and he extended his senses outward to feel Hyara's familiar presence approaching with Gink and Palla from the south. He stood up to look and before long she came into view in the distance, perched on his riding wolf. It had been her idea to take his wolf instead of her horse so she'd be less likely to attract trouble from Horde who might see her at a distance. He grinned at the slight awkwardness with which she rode the wolf's loping gait, so different from her horse's gallop, but it looked as if she'd been successful in her hunt: the carcass of a huge gazelle was slung across the wolf's back behind her. She saw him standing beneath the trees and she lifted a hand high in a wave. Galmak took a last swallow of water before replacing the mug on the ground and he started to jog away from the little farm to meet her across the field.

Then suddenly the same instincts that had let him detect his wife were screaming with alarm. Hyara turned her head sharply to the west just as Galmak reached out and felt a dozen beings closing fast around the ridge toward her. Gink and Palla both snarled, hackles raised, and turned west. There was a sudden glint in the air, flashing needle-bright, and Hyara cried out and tumbled limply off the wolf's back. Galmak roared and charged forward with a speed he hadn't known he possessed just as four dozen hooves thundered out of the cover of the ridge and started across the plain. He reached Hyara and dodged around to the other side of his wolf where she'd fallen. She was panting, staring up at him with glassy eyes, and there was an arrow punched straight through her mail breastplate and buried deep in her left side. Cobalt blood matted the grass beneath her and soaked the ground. Galmak choked on a howl of rage and grief, but she was still alive for the moment and the only chance to keep her that way was by concentrating on the band of centaurs charging toward them.

Palla responded instantly to his direction and she and Gink streaked away through the high grass to either side of the raiding band, moving in to harry their flanks. Galmak grabbed Hyara's bow and in the blink of an eye sent a half dozen arrows streaking toward the foremost centaur. The creature managed a lucky block of the first two, but the rest found their mark and the beast went down with a scream. And yet it was only one; eleven centaurs still hurtled toward them. Galmak knew he had precious few seconds before they either reached him or paused to send arrows at him.

His mind roiled with rage at what these things had done to Hyara, these creatures who took such mindless delight in killing. He barely even took note of what he was doing as his senses suddenly delved deep into the earth beneath him and he felt his rage answered in the ground, channeled into a roar that surely must be audible even to Hyara where she lay half-conscious. The centaurs must have felt something too because their charge suddenly faltered; their mad war screams died and a few of them glanced around uncertainly. One of them took up the cry again and the headlong rush continued, but the brief pause was all the time Galmak needed. The deep growl of the earth spread outward in a wave from where he stood, rippling like a tide until it reached the charging centaurs, and then suddenly the earth seemed to explode beneath their hooves, sending rocks, grass, and bodies flying skyward in a plume of dirt laced with tongues of roaring flame. A corner of Galmak's mind noted that his parents, Olkhor, and Gheris were all sprinting toward him across the field, but most of him focused in white-hot anger on the few centaurs who had avoided the worst of the explosion and were now scrambling up to resume the battle. He ripped an axe from its sheath attached to the riding wolf's saddle and with a wild howl he surged toward one of the creatures.

The axe spun in his hands and the blood fury coursed through him as he slashed and hacked at the creature, driving it relentlessly backward. He whirled in time to parry the blow of a second centaur, then sent his axe in a brutal arc to its gut, slicing the centaur open down its front and sending blood spraying. The first centaur snapped a sudden kick toward him, but he dodged and the blade of his axe once again met flesh, sending part of the monster's leg and hoof thudding to the ground. The centaur screamed and Galmak finished it with a slice to the neck. A half second later an arrow thrummed through the air and buried itself in the creature's chest. Galmak looked up from his kill to see his father lowering a bow. His mother stood nearby with her hands raised and even as Galmak looked, a dark, pulsing aura died around her and she lowered her hands. Olkhor hurled a bloody axe into the ground and sat down heavily.

The ground was littered with charred dead centaurs, loose rocks, and dust. Galmak felt his eyes fading back to their usual deep brown and now dread flooded into him like ice-cold water. He dashed the short distance back across the field and around the sheltering bulk of the riding wolf, deadly afraid of what he would find. Hyara's eyes were closed and the ground seemed drenched with her blood. Gheris sat on the ground, cradling her in his arms, and a soft gold glow enclosed them both. Galmak fell to his knees beside his wife and looked desperately at her brother.

"Gheris," Galmak panted. "Will she…?"

The draenei just shook his head minutely, a frown of concentration furrowing his brow. "Take the arrow out," he said softly. "Very, _very_ slowly."

Galmak gripped the arrow and began to pull it out, hair by hair. He was immeasurably grateful that Hyara was unconscious. More blood gushed out of the wound at first, but it slowed to a trickle as Gheris knit the damage. They sat there on the ground for what seemed like ages, Galmak easing the arrow out of Hyara's side and Gheris following its passage with tendrils of healing magic. At last the steel head glinted in sight through a coat of blue blood and the arrow slid out. A good four inches of the shaft were stained blue, but Hyara still breathed steadily if a little shallowly. Galmak gulped back a sob of relief and rested his forehead against hers as the horrible hole in her ribs closed and the trickle of blood stopped. Gheris lowered his sister carefully to the ground from his lap and sagged back weakly. He nodded in relief and took a gulp of air.

"She'll be alright," the vindicator said faintly. Serlah knelt and pressed a mug of something into his hands; Galmak saw now that she must have gone back to the house to retrieve a box of potions and salves as they worked. She uncorked a vial and carefully dabbed something on the puckered skin on Hyara's side, then dipped a finger in another vial, gently opened Hyara's mouth, and smeared the substance on her tongue.

"We must get her out of the sun," the orc woman said quietly. Galmak gathered his wife carefully into his arms, fearing to move her but also knowing that his mother was right. Gheris pushed himself wearily to his hooves and the little group walked solemnly back toward the house.

* * *

Hyara woke to cool darkness, soft pillows, and the soothing scent of dreamfoil. She stirred and felt a hand enclosing hers. Galmak's face appeared beside her and he laid a hand on her forehead, smoothing her hair and stroking his thick fingers gently across her cheek.

"Awake finally," he said with a smile of relief.

"Oh, Light," Hyara groaned hoarsely. There was an awful pain hammering in her side and her head felt like she'd been beating it against a rock. She reached a hand clumsily to feel her side and tried to look down, but Galmak gently pressed her back.

"None of that. You're not supposed to move." He kissed her forehead and rested his cheek against hers for a moment. "Do you remember what happened, love?" he asked softly.

Hyara did remember some of it, and she nodded. "Centaurs… They hit me with an arrow. I think I fell, but after that… I remember seeing you, and then Gheris. That's all."

He nodded and she saw fear and sorrow in his eyes. "We almost lost you. It took everything Gheris had to save you."

"Oh, love…" She felt a tear trickle down her cheek and she squeezed his hand weakly. "I wouldn't leave you over some stupid centaurs."

Galmak tried to grin but couldn't manage it. She'd come very, very close. He kissed her again and laid down beside her on the bed, stroking her forehead and singing softly until she drifted once more into healing sleep.

The door opened quietly behind him and yellow lamplight spilled across the floor from the house's main room.

"Galmak," his mother's voice said softly. He kissed Hyara gently and rose to leave the little bedroom.

He sank into a chair at the table, squinting slightly against the light, and his mother slid a warm mug in front of him. Lurigk squeezed his shoulder in sympathy and they joined him around the table.

"Has she woken yet?" Serlah asked, and Galmak nodded. "She should drink a little healing potion soon, but only when she wakes again. The sleep is more important for now," his mother sighed. "Gheris is still asleep too. I think he will rest for quite some time yet."

"I sent a raven out to Far Watch Post, let them know we've had centaur activity up here. They'll have extra patrols out this way by now. Damn centaurs," Lurigk growled. "We haven't had a raid up here in two years. Mindless, slavering, murdering beasts." Serlah laid a hand on his arm and he fell silent.

Galmak stared down at the table and rubbed a hand across his forehead. "I suppose you're probably wondering what happened out there," he said. His parents exchanged a look and nodded.

"If you want to tell us, son," Lurigk said quietly.

"I was just waiting for the opportunity," Galmak sighed. "I damn well wish it hadn't happened like this."

He told them first about the vision he'd been granted and then the trip up into the mountains with Olkhor. He told them every detail of their clan's shrine, the glimpse he'd had of the past down in the valley, the ancestor's visit, and every word she'd said.

When he was finished he looked up and was taken aback to see tears running down his mother's face. Lurigk was squeezing her hand fiercely and staring at his son in a mix of pride and awe.

"Mother…" Galmak said helplessly and took her other hand. Serlah smiled joyfully through her tears.

"You've been honored beyond anything we could have dreamed of for you, my son," she said.

"I feel the same way," he nodded wearily. "But I don't know what it means. Why should I follow the ways of a shaman now, when I've already chosen the ways of a hunter?"

"Because you have a gift," she said simply. "The ancestors saw it in you. That gift is not something that should go unused and wasted."

He shook his head and sighed. "And the name?"

Lurigk chuckled suddenly. "I expect you'll find out in time, son. Hunters know the value of patience."

"I feel funny using a name I don't know the meaning of," he muttered.

"Use it with pride," Serlah smiled. "It is enough that the ancestors honored you with it."

"Dad, what do I do about Palla?" he asked suddenly in exasperation. "I… She hates me now. She won't say a word to me. I don't see how I can make her understand that she won't lose her place at my side."

Lurigk grunted. "She doesn't hate you, son. I saw her out there obeying your every command. You've just got to show her a firm hand. Are you in control or aren't you?"

"Who knows anymore," Galmak frowned. "I haven't felt very in control of anything… Well. I don't suppose that's true. But…" He shook his head and stifled a yawn, but his mother saw it anyway.

"You need to sleep, Galmak. Go join your mate now." Serlah rose and retrieved a small glass bottle from a shelf. "If she wakes, give her a mouthful of this." She stood on tiptoes to kiss his forehead and steered him into the darkened bedroom.

* * *


	6. Cries Answered

* * *

Hyara had firmly refused to stay in bed recovering the next day. She wasn't foolish enough to try moving around very much, but she'd insisted on at least resting outside in the shade of the trees, and Serlah had agreed in the end that the fresh air would be good for her. Now she sat with her back against a tree and Gink at her side with his head resting on her leg, looking as if nothing could induce him to travel more than a few feet from her.

The men had all resumed the sweaty work of building the new boar pens and Hyara glanced up at them occasionally in between writing sentences in her letters. She'd already finished and set aside one to Remta updating him on her location and plans, and now she was trying to write what was by far the more difficult letter: one that she hoped would reach her grandfather soon. Gheris had already sent him a short note from Ratchet, but she wanted her grandfather to read her own words of explanation and apology. She sighed and dropped the pen to scratch Gink's ears. The things she needed to say to her grandfather weren't easy to put down on paper.

Gheris's shadow reached her across the grass and she looked up and smiled. He sat down beside her and put an arm carefully around her shoulder to give her a squeeze.

"You're all sweaty," she laughed.

He sniffed exaggeratedly. "Hmm, so I am. How are you feeling?"

"A little stiff and sore. But alive, thanks to you and Galmak."

"That was quite something he did out there, stopping a whole centaur raid cold and dead. Well, dead, anyway. They were pretty roasted. Did he tell you what happened?"

She nodded slowly and looked at him sidelong. "Did he explain to you?"

"Roughly, yes. I didn't ask for details, of which there seemed to be plenty he was holding back. Has he had any training in this?"

"No…" She bit her lip thoughtfully. "I think he's still not sure he wants this. If he decides to seek training it'll mean he's accepted it fully."

"Ah. I take it this is why Palla isn't happy with him." Gheris reached out a hand to rub Gink's head and the big cat purred low in his throat.

Hyara nodded and laid her head against his shoulder. "It's complicated," she sighed.

She was feeling a little drowsy in the early afternoon heat and her side was pulsing with a dull ache as the wound worked to repair itself naturally. The magic had taken care of the massive damage, but nature still had to take care of the details. She was glad that at least the headache was gone. She had a sick feeling that the headache had had nothing to do with the wound and everything to do with the strong holy Light that had suffused her body during the healing.

There was a distant shout and everyone looked out across the field to the south, spying a party of mounted Horde scouts.

"Oh no," Hyara murmured and she and Gheris exchanged a worried look.

But Lurigk didn't seem to be concerned; he raised a hand and shouted back a greeting to the soldiers as their riding wolves pulled to a halt in front of the house. Galmak set aside his hammer and went to join his father as Serlah stepped out of the house.

"Hail, Lurigk. Serlah." A tauren who seemed to be in charge of the party dismounted and gripped Lurigk's hand in greeting.

"Welcome, Keva," Lurigk nodded. "Seen any more activity out here today?"

The tauren shook her shaggy brown head and her nostrils dilated in disgust. "Not seen any more centaurs yet, but we did find evidence that a big raiding party was camped to the west of here. You folks must have had the bad fortune to attract some of their outrunners. Your neighbors to the southwest were hit too but they managed to fight them off."

"Thank the ancestors for that," Serlah sighed. "Are they in need of help?"

Keva smiled. "They had only minor injuries but I will pass along your offer. How many were in the band that attacked you here?"

"Ah… From what I could tell, it must've been close to a dozen," Lurigk said, but he looked over at Galmak. "It was a little hard to tell exactly how many there were after my son got done with them."

Galmak shifted uncomfortably. "It was a dozen," he said. "They came from around the ridge and attacked my mate as she was coming back from hunting."

Keva's huge eyes softened with concern. "But your message said you suffered no deaths."

"No. Her brother was able to heal her," Galmak said.

"Then I'm glad of that," the tauren nodded. "And none of them escaped? They were all killed?"

"Dead as a pile of bricks," Olkhor said with satisfaction.

"Good," Keva nodded grimly, then addressed Galmak again. "Your mate is still recovering from her injuries?"

He nodded and the tauren said a few words of farewell to Lurigk and Serlah, then mounted up with her scouts and loped back south in the direction of Far Watch Post.

"I was worried for a minute there she'd want to see Hyara and Gheris," Galmak said as the patrol disappeared into the distance.

Lurigk looked at him in surprise. "Why, it wouldn't have mattered even if she had," he said with a shrug. "She knows you're mated to a draenei. Most people around here do. You didn't think we could keep it from people that you've taken a mate, did you?"

"The more of our neighbors who know, the less likely she is to be bothered out here, Galmak. We wouldn't neglect your mate's safety by keeping her a secret," Serlah chided gently.

Galmak grunted and nodded, feeling a little foolish. He supposed he should have realized that; it only made sense.

"Everything alright?" Gheris asked, coming over to join them.

"They were just wanting more details about the attack, and reassuring us that they're on the look-out," Lurigk replied.

"Well then, these boars aren't going to pen themselves in," Gheris said cheerfully, taking up a hammer again.

"I think we should keep you," Serlah said with a grin.

Galmak and Lurigk both bellowed with laughter. Even Olkhor snorted and a smile threatened to split his face before he managed to turn it into a slight grimace.

Before resuming his work, Galmak trotted over to reassure Hyara that there'd been no trouble from the scouts. She looked as if she were having a hard time staying awake in the afternoon sun, but she was making a valiant effort to finish the letter she'd started to her grandfather. He pulled up her shirt for a look at the arrow wound and saw that whatever salve his mother had been putting on it seemed to be reducing the scarring.

"Do you need anything?" he asked and kissed her.

"No… I can walk, you know." She stuck out her tongue.

He grinned and bit her tongue playfully. "But you shouldn't. You don't want to do anything to tear that back open inside."

"I feel so useless. You're all over there sweating away and I can't do anything but sit here and doze like an old fat elekk."

Galmak chuckled. "Then I'd have to say you're the most attractive old fat elekk I've ever seen."

"You're supposed to tell me I'm not an old fat elekk," she said in mock offense.

"Oh, hm. Well, you're not," he grinned and she pulled him close for another kiss, not minding the sticky sweat that dripped down his bare back and chest.

"You know, if it were only other orcs around no one would even look over here," he said with a mischievous glint in his eye. "But there's Gheris, of course…"

Hyara looked mortified. "You can't mean it? Just… right out here in the daylight with other people in plain sight?"

"Well, I suppose it would be _slightly_ in bad taste," he conceded, grinning at her discomfiture. "But not unheard of. If we were quiet about it," he added wickedly with a tug on her tail.

She shook her head in consternation, uncertain whether to take that at face value or as a joke, but then she gave him a mischievous grin of her own.

"I might draw the line at daylight, but you know I don't have a problem with it in the dark," she said, nuzzling her cheek across his tusks. "We find our ways, even with other people nearby."

He laughed. "So we do. I just thought that with Gheris here- "

"We don't have to stay right here, exactly," she smiled. "There's a lot of room out here."

Galmak's mind wasn't precisely on his work for the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

The next few days following the attack were blessedly idyllic. Hyara continued to make a steady recovery and before she knew it she barely felt any hint that she'd been skewered with an arrow earlier in the week. As soon as she could move around safely without danger of reopening the wound, she took to helping Serlah in the house with her potions and herbs. Hyara had little knowledge of alchemy but there were still plenty of things she could do to help prepare the herbs for use in potions, ointments, and elixirs, even if Serlah would never let her near the final mixing and magical infusion processes.

There had been no further word of trouble from centaurs, but nevertheless they'd seen Horde scout patrols out in force, working to make their presence known in the area as much to reassure the residents of the scattered farms as to catch any stray raiding centaurs who might still be about. A few neighbors came to visit and hear news of the attack. Hyara and Gheris mostly tried to stay out of the way of any visitors, but the draenei were never treated with anything worse than uneasy indifference or curiosity, and more often with reserved cordiality. Lurigk and Serlah were well-respected and good friends of most people in the area and none of their neighbors had any desire to offend them with a slight against their son's mate.

Galmak was surprised and warily optimistic to find that Palla had been keeping a little closer to him since the attack. She still feigned deafness whenever he tried to speak to her, but he decided to let that go for now and not push her too hard. It was surely a good sign that at least she was no longer straying beyond the limits of the bond, and he had hopes that she would gradually put their rift behind her.

The weather had turned slightly cooler later in the week. The days were still plenty hot, but nighttime breezes carried the coolness of the distant river across the plains and Galmak had taken to lighting a small fire at night after he noticed Hyara sleeping with an extra blanket. He found that, despite the centaur raid, he was deeply contented here helping his parents, spending peaceful time with Hyara, and falling asleep beneath the familiar stars of the Barrens. He smiled as he lay in the low, flickering firelight with Hyara in his arms, realizing that at last they were getting the rest they'd planned on taking in Nagrand.

"What's that for?" Hyara whispered, tracing a finger lovingly across his lips.

"Oh, just thinking about things," he chuckled softly.

"Well, I'm glad they're good things," she yawned, closing her eyes, and before long she was asleep in his arms.

Almost no sooner had Galmak closed his eyes than he dreamed. He stood in a vague grey fog that seemed to have no depth, but at the same time had no end any direction he moved. The whispers were there again all around him and they were unmistakably closer. He thought now he could hear snatches of words, pick out a few fragments of sentences, but when he tried to remember what he'd heard nothing would come back to him. He called out as he had in the other dreams and sudden silence answered him like smothering wool that wove itself into the fog until the oppressive heaviness made him want to scream. And then, so abruptly that it was like a draft of cold air from an open window, a voice cut through the heavy silence, clear though seemingly far away.

"You speak from the sunset. Who are you?"

He woke in a sweat with the voice still echoing in his mind. The wind blew warm across the embers of the fire; stars shone unclouded above him. Hyara slept undisturbed at his side and he could hear heavy breathing from Gheris and Olkhor nearby. With a start of astonishment he realized that Palla was closer than ever, sleeping only several yards away in the grass.

Carefully, and as silently as he could, Galmak rose from his bedroll and crept in his wolf's direction. She didn't stir as he approached and then knelt at her side. He reached out a hand, stopping just short of touching her; he knew better than to startle her from sleep like that. She looked so peaceful and he could almost fool himself into believing there was nothing wrong between them at this moment. But then he sensed a heightened alertness in her as she surfaced from sleep and one glinting yellow eye slit open to fix him in a stare. Palla growled low in her throat, her teeth baring in a slight snarl, and he felt a firm push to his mind to _go away_.

Well, he didn't want to go away, and before he knew what he was doing, Galmak was growling right back at her. _I've just about had it with you_, he said. She snarled and leapt up with her hackles raised, and he too jumped to his feet. Then suddenly she was streaking off into the darkness with barely a sound of light paws on the ground and a swish of grass against her fur. Galmak glanced back toward the fire to see that no one had woken. He stared off into the darkness toward her sense for a heartbeat, and then he was off and sprinting through the high grass.

_You're damn well going to stop this, and you're going to stop it tonight_, he snarled at her.

The starlight was barely enough illumination to show him where he was going, but he didn't need his eyes; he knew every rock and rise of this land. Palla's sense was loud and clear in front of him and the earth pulsed strong beneath his feet, leading him on. It slid across his mind like blowing sand and showed him the echoes of Palla's paws ahead. The bond strained and drew thin, then began to fray away, and Galmak knew that she was outdistancing him and he'd soon lose the feel of her in his mind. He reached out to the air around him and whooped in elation when he felt the wind respond, no longer whistling against his ears but now flowing with him and nudging him along. Now he was gaining on her: he could feel her presence in his mind strengthen and he smiled in grim satisfaction when he felt her consternation at suddenly realizing her lead was shortening.

The wind rippled ahead, parting the grass, and there she was with the faint light glinting dully off her grey fur. They were nearing the looming bulk of the ridge now and Galmak summoned a burst of speed, praying he'd catch her before she reached the shadowy rocks tumbled at the foot of the ridge. He howled, and with a leap he managed to tackle her. Palla snarled in rage and thrashed, flipping over to dig her claws into his arms and chest, but Galmak locked his hands around her and hung on. He roared at the pain, but also in triumph that he'd caught her, and he barely noticed the dark blood dripping from the gashes she'd made. Palla snapped her jaws at him and he strained to hold her at arm's length.

"Come back to me." It came out aloud, in a low growl.

_You don't need me._

_I do need you. Hunter and shaman are both in my blood and I can't be who I am without you._

Her wide gold eyes glinted at him in the starlight and he felt a strange flood of emotions travel through the bond, some his own and familiar; others he knew must be hers and their substance seemed utterly alien while also being familiar as the air in his lungs. He gave her mind a careful, soothing nudge and all at once her sense was full of weary relief mingled with joy. He loosened his grip and slowly and cautiously released her. Palla stood staring at him for a moment and then she laid her muzzle against his leg. Galmak threw his arms around her and hid his face in her fur.

_Are you back?_

Her sense held relief, love, and amusement all at once. _I'm back_.

They sat there together silently for a time wrapped once again in the sense of each other. At last Galmak rose with a sigh and a smile and jogged back toward the distant firelight with Palla close at his side.

Hyara was sitting huddled in a blanket when they returned. She and Gink both looked up as Galmak and Palla emerged together from the darkness and the orc dropped back down on the bedroll with his wolf flopping wearily at his side. Hyara's eyebrows rose in alarm at the sight of the bloody gashes on Galmak's bare chest and arms, but a smile split her face and she leaned in to kiss him, being careful of the wounds. She made him sit still while she found one of the salves Serlah had given her and then set about dabbing it on the gashes. Olkhor grunted and rolled over nearby, opening a bleary eye at them.

"Night's the time for sleeping, you know," he grumbled.

"Sorry," Galmak shrugged. "Didn't mean to make any noise."

The old orc grunted again and raised himself up on an elbow, squinting across the low-burning fire. "See you got your wolf back. About damn time too. You let that go on for too long."

"I don't suppose you'd know anything about letting something go on for too long," Galmak said dryly.

Olkhor narrowed his eyes at the young orc and then stretched out on his back, staring up at the sky.

"I'm glad I came here," he said after a moment of silence.

"My parents are too," Galmak said quietly. "They know what it's like to think they're the last."

"They're young like you though," Olkhor grunted. "They're lucky they don't remember what I do."

"You might be surprised what they remember, Olkhor. If you think they don't share any of your guilt for helping the Legion, you're wrong. They may be too young to remember much about what happened on Draenor, but plenty happened on Azeroth too."

"So the blood on their hands is red instead of blue. Blood is blood. I guess we're all damned." He chuckled darkly.

"Maybe," Galmak said calmly. "But there's no reason to live like it."

Hyara pulled him gently down to lie on the bedroll beside her and he didn't resist; the confrontation with Palla had worn him out. His wolf curled up at his back and he fell asleep contentedly.

…Only to reenter the dulling, heavy fog of another dream. _No_… Galmak's dream self cringed wearily at the now-familiar feel of the non-place. The whispers were there again but this time he kept silent. He didn't want to answer them, didn't want to hear the echoes or the dead silence that might fall in response. He let his mind speak this time, directing a thought tentatively toward the fog. _Who's there?_

He might have imagined it, but he thought the whispers eddied for a moment as if in response before rushing onward. But no voice spoke again as it had before when he'd been startled from sleep. He stood resolutely silent in the deadening fog of the dream until the sun rose, soaking into his sleep and blessedly waking him.

* * *

The dreams were coming more frequently. At first they had merely puzzled him; he'd thought they were a curiosity brought on by his confusion at all he'd had to consider lately. Now they were more than a nuisance – they were becoming more alarming the more often they happened, and they were wearing him out besides. Galmak had told Hyara about the dreams the day after he'd gone after Palla, but now he almost wished he hadn't worried her. They seemed to unnerve her almost as much as they did him and she'd taken to trying various tactics designed to distract or soothe him before sleep in hopes that he wouldn't dream. Nothing worked, although he definitely didn't mind some of her tactics.

Nothing about the dreams had changed, either, after that voice and its few cryptic sentences. _Who are you?_ the voice had asked. Galmak didn't want to answer.

He lay down for sleep one night nearly a week after Palla's return, exhausted from a day of sparring with Gheris. The paladin had decided that Galmak's skills in close combat needed some improvement and he'd suggested they try a few rounds of "cordially beating the shit out of each other," as Hyara had exasperatedly put it. Gheris was far better trained in fighting at close range and Galmak had quickly and ruefully acknowledged that he could learn a few things from the draenei. It had been a productive day and surely now he would sleep undisturbed…

But luck wasn't with him. Once again the fog closed around his sleeping mind and he stood in the undefined emptiness with the whispers murmuring like waves on an unseen shore. He felt frustration and then anger rise in his dream-self, knowing that he would spend the entire night in this place until something woke him. He growled in anger and the whispers stopped at once, leaving heavy silence behind.

"Who are you?"

He clapped his hands to his ears; the deep voice had come so suddenly it had reverberated like thunder in his head. He turned a slow circle on the spot, gazing into the featureless fog for any glimpse of the speaker, but as always there was nothing there. Wait… no, that wasn't quite right this time. Galmak squinted straight ahead of him at a spot that somehow seemed more substantial and a bit darker.

Hesitantly he opened his mouth. "Who are _you_?" he countered in a low voice. "Are you an ancestor?"

He could distinctly see something different about that patch of fog now; a hazy, dark outline was slowly gaining solidity.

"We are seeking someone. You may be the one we seek," the voice replied.

"I am a shaman of the Thunderlord clan," Galmak said cautiously.

"Then you cannot be the one we seek," the figure said in some puzzlement. "We seek one who is living."

Realization dawned, but with it came more confusion. If this person – or people – thought he was an ancestor, they couldn't be ancestors themselves, surely?

"I'm living as far as I know," he said wryly. "And you are too, I take it?"

The figure seemed to hesitate. "Yes. Were you the one who called out?"

"I… have been, yes," Galmak answered slowly. "What are these dreams and why am I here?"

"We also sought those answers. I think I understand now," the figure said with satisfaction. "I was once of the Thunderlord clan. There are others who were as well."

"Others? I- I thought there were no more," Galmak said, stunned. Just how many left were there? "And how is it that I reached you like this? I've been searching for others, but…"

"You must come east to find us, to the Hinterlands," the voice said. "We will wait for you, brother. Blood heeds blood's cry."

The dream faded and at last left him in dark, quiet sleep.

* * *


	7. Things Worth Remembering

* * *

Serlah sighed and glanced again at her mate. Lurigk was frowning out the window and seemed content to let her speak for them both.

"We cannot come with you, Galmak. There's too much here for us to tend to. We would lose our livelihood if we left our farm for such a long journey."

Her son nodded regretfully, knowing she was right but wishing it could be otherwise. He would be their eyes and ears among these lost clansmen; he would learn all he could about these people and who they had become.

"All these years," Lurigk said. "More of us on Azeroth this whole time."

"Oh, my son," Serlah sighed and squeezed Galmak's hands. "You've been given such a gift. Use it well and find our kin."

"I will, Mother," he said quietly and pulled her into a hug.

There was much to do before they set out and his stomach leapt with excitement at what awaited across the sea. Olkhor had immediately announced his intention to come and Galmak couldn't blame him. And then, much to Galmak's surprise, Gheris had also asked to come along. The orc had laughed heartily when he caught the gleam in Gheris's eye: this was an adventure, and Gheris didn't want to miss out. Well, in a way it was an adventure, and Galmak couldn't deny him.

Hyara was excited yet also apprehensive. It had shaken her deeply when Galmak had finally told her of his dreams and admitted that they'd been going on since coming through the Portal weeks ago. He hadn't known until recently that they were anything more than odd nightmares, but she still wished he'd said something since the dreams seemed to speak to another strange ability the ancestors must have known about. Was this what he'd been fated and named for, to seek out the last of his kin? It seemed so, and yet Hyara had to admit to herself that it all scared her a little.

* * *

Only a few days later the group was retracing their path back south to Ratchet and debating the route they should take to get to the Hinterlands.

"Doesn't make any sense to go way the hell back south to Booty Bay again," Olkhor grumbled. "From the map, it looks to me like the Hinterlands is on the whole other damn side of the world from there."

"If you look at it that way it doesn't make much sense," Hyara answered. "But the lanes from Ratchet to Booty Bay are safe. They're well-traveled enough to be free of pirates and slavers."

"But what about the trip north overland from there?" Galmak said, raising an eyebrow at her. "That's a lot of ground to cover and quite a bit of Alliance territory to cross."

Hyara sighed and shook her head. He had her there.

"I think you're all failing to see the obvious," Gheris said. "We don't go overland and we don't take a ship south."

"And where and how does that take us?" Galmak asked.

"That takes us by ship to Faldir's Cove," Gheris answered with a smile.

Hyara sent Galmak a questioning look but he just shrugged.

"Oh, come on. Faldir's Cove in the Arathi Highlands? Neither of you?" Gheris rolled his eyes. "It's the biggest smuggling port in the northern half of the continent. And by big, I mean… gods, a few hundred people at the most." He grinned. "But the drinks are mostly excellent."

Hyara groaned. "You _would_ come up with something like that, Gheris. A smugglers' and pirates' port? I thought I mentioned that 'safe' was a consideration."

"Hey," he said defensively. "It's run by the Blackwater Raiders, so they have something of a reputation to uphold. It's actually a pretty tame place if you can believe it. Pretty businesslike. They have a lot of contraband goods to move to supply most of the northlands, after all. And the best part is that it's a dead certainty we can get a well-armed ship headed straight there. If there's anything goblins are serious about, it's protecting their gold and making more of it as quickly as possible."

"Well…" Galmak eyed the vindicator skeptically, but it sounded as if it might be a plan. He exchanged a look with Hyara. Gheris might have a bit of an adventurous streak, but he also knew where to draw the line. "I suppose that would make things easier," Galmak conceded.

"How long will this put us out at sea?" Olkhor muttered, sending a sidelong look at Gheris.

"Eh, I wouldn't worry. It shouldn't be much longer than the trip between Ratchet and Booty Bay," the vindicator answered offhandedly, tugging absently at one of the tendrils on his chin. "I wonder if that one tavern is still there…"

Luck was with them; there was a ship leaving Ratchet the next day for Faldir's Cove. It had taken a little bit of doing to find it since the goblins weren't in the habit of openly advertising their smuggling runs, but fortunately Gheris was acquainted with some of the right channels.

"I think I should keep a closer eye on you," Hyara laughed that night as they had a final drink of the evening in the inn.

Gheris raised an eyebrow at her. "If it means I can keep a closer eye on you, I'll go for that deal."

"How do we know we can trust these goblins?" Olkhor asked. "I've heard some things about the slave trade around these parts. Maybe I'm too old to be worth much, but the three of you would make a fine catch for any slaver. 'Specially you." He grinned and waved his mug at Hyara.

"Olkhor, can it be that you're actually concerned for our safety?" she gasped in mock-amazement, earning a surly glare from the old orc.

"Not likely," he muttered, taking a last swig of ale and then shutting his mouth for the rest of the night.

"The Steamwheedle Cartel doesn't move slaves through Faldir's Cove," Gheris said. "Not enough of a market for them up there and the Blackwater Raiders don't really care for that particular trade of the Cartel's anyway. In any case, I know this is a legitimate ship we've got. We shouldn't have any trouble."

"I hope you're right," Galmak said a little more grimly than he'd intended. Not too many years ago the prospect of taking a few riskier risks than usual to go on a journey to an exciting and unknown destination would have thrilled him beyond measure. When had he lost that sense of reckless exuberance? He didn't have to think about that question for too long; he'd lost it when it had also become a matter of Hyara's safety. Those few intervening years since they'd met had taught him that there was plenty of trouble around and it didn't need any help from him in finding them.

But Gheris's information about the ship proved to be correct; it was legitimate and it was captained by a very efficient, very capable goblin. It was a good thing too, Galmak thought, since they'd paid an obscene amount of gold to make this crossing. Yet it had been fully worth it, he and Hyara had to admit, because for the first time in weeks they found themselves sequestered every night in a room of their own, safely beyond hearing of Olkhor or Gheris. Paying through the nose had its perks.

The captain ran a tight ship and he'd already threatened (jokingly, they _thought_) to throw Gheris overboard if he got his "menace of a giant tail" in the way again, so after that they passed most of the days of the voyage in the passengers' common room below decks, trying to stay out of the way of the crew.

"Has anyone seen Olkhor much in… two days?" Hyara asked, tossing a pair of dice again idly and knowing she would lose once again to her brother.

"Come to think of it, no," Gheris said, collecting his winnings.

"I think the problem is that this room has windows," Galmak said and gestured to the long stretch of paned glass at the back of the room.

"Aah." Gheris nodded thoughtfully. "Doesn't much care for the open sea, huh."

"Maybe he'd rather the world end in a sheer cliff down to the nether," Hyara said skeptically.

"Mind if I join in?" A huge, white-maned tauren dragged a chair over to their table and paused politely for a response. Galmak nodded and scooted his own chair over to make room, slapping the tabletop beside him for the tauren to join them.

"Thanks," the bull said. "I'm Firthom. Most people just call me Fir. Gets a little boring around here, doesn't it?"

"It does, but we have the power to make things very interesting. How much you in for?" Gheris grinned.

"Gheris…" Hyara said warningly. The tauren slapped some coins on the table. "Alright, I'm out," she said. "I can't believe there was a time when I used to beat you." She stuck out her tongue at her brother.

"Well, you were just a kid. I had to let you win once in a while to keep you coming back," Gheris shrugged. "Of course, back then we used to play for rocks so the losses and wins weren't quite what they are now."

The tauren narrowed his eyes. "I hope for your sake you don't cheat, draenei."

"He doesn't cheat, friend," Galmak said placatingly. "He's just pretty damn good. A little too good for me," he added in a mutter, eyeing his own diminished pile of coins. He'd never been much use at the gambling table. Hyara always told him adoringly that it was because he was too honest, but he suspected it was just that he never paid close enough attention.

"What's taking you to Faldir's Cove?" Gheris asked Fir.

The tauren snorted and shook his mane. "Not that it's any of your business, but I'll tell you anyway. There's some group been terrorizing Arathi lately, running around attacking farms and such. Not sure if they're Alliance or what, but my brother's at Hammerfall and wanted me to come out and help look for 'em. Only Horde farms have been getting hit, see. Now, that might only mean they haven't moved on yet to the human places closer to Refuge Pointe, but you never know."

"Could be the Witherbark," Galmak said.

"Could be," Fir shrugged. "Not ogres, but other than that, nobody seems to know yet. They always hit at night and nobody's gotten a look at 'em. Don't really bother the people, see, just go after the livestock and burn crops." He turned an eye back on Gheris. "Now, how about yourself?"

"Oh, I'm just along for the ride," the draenei said dismissively, gesturing toward Galmak.

"I'm going to the Hinterlands to look for what's left of my clan," Galmak explained.

Fir snorted again. "Orcs in the Hinterlands? I suppose just about anything could live up in those mountains and half of it we wouldn't know about," he said thoughtfully. "Strange company you keep, though."

"There aren't very many of my clan left," Galmak said. "And as for the company I keep, it's the best kind."

"Not the best kind if you want to keep your gold." Fir glowered between Gheris and the coins in front of him.

"Can't argue with that," Galmak grimaced. "Last round for me."

"At least he's honest about it," the tauren growled. Gheris grinned at them and proceeded to clean up.

"Drinks on me," the vindicator said and strolled over to the goblin tending bar.

They made port at Faldir's Cove on a blustery, chilly evening just as the sun was sliding into the fiery water behind them. Lights were beginning to wink on in the little village, gold and orange in the falling darkness. It was a tiny place, but by the looks of the docks it was plenty lively. Snatches of music and raised voices drifted across the water from some of the buildings ranged along the narrow streets jutting up the side of a steep hill, and the place had an aura of bustle and industry despite its small population. Olkhor had at last shown his face on deck once land was sighted, staring intently at the shoreline as if his gaze could make it approach faster. Hyara felt a little sorry for him as the old orc practically jumped the rail to get onto the dock.

The captain stopped them as they were disembarking. "Understand I'm not recommending against anything, but if I were you I'd head past the inn near the docks and go up the hill to the smaller inn," he said with a wink.

They thanked him and decided to take his advice, as they could see the larger inn from here and it looked to be surrounded by a small crowd of noisy sailors in varying degrees of sloshedness.

"Hey, that's the tavern I was thinking of," Gheris said. "Looks a little seedier than when I was last here," he added hastily when his sister shot him an amused look.

The smaller inn was also much quieter and looked as if it played host to the port's more businesslike clientele. They saw a mix of goblins, Horde, Alliance, a few Syndicate humans, and even a couple of ogres in the common room chatting or bargaining in low tones over drinks. There was a troll playing a wooden flute in one corner, but he looked as if he were doing it more for his own amusement than for the benefit of the other patrons. Only two rooms were available so it was decided that Gheris would share with Hyara and Galmak for the night. Olkhor looked delighted to be left to himself again.

Galmak fell asleep a few hours later wondering how he would find his clansmen now that he was near. Should he try to contact them again in the dream? Could he contact them again?

Before he'd even made a conscious decision to try, the fog wrapped around him and the whispers pressed at his ears. His dream-self sighed inwardly, wishing he could be done with this place once and for all.

"Hello?" he called softly, not knowing how else he could call his kin into the dream, if that was indeed what he did here.

After a moment the fog in front of him began to grey and substantiate slightly, revealing a hazy figure.

"Have you come?" a voice said.

"Yes," he answered. "But now I need to know how to find you. We're in Arathi."

"Ah. You are close then. But who else do you bring?" the voice asked warily.

"My mate, her brother, and another clansman of ours."

"Are your mate and her brother of our clan also?"

"No," he answered.

The figure must have detected the hesitation in his voice. "What clan are they from then? Some of their kin may be here as well."

Galmak didn't want to answer, but he realized he couldn't very well not say anything and then show up with two draenei; that would put Hyara and Gheris at risk and it would be unfair to his clansmen to hide it from them. He knew his clansmen would never dishonor themselves by refusing to welcome his mate as a sister in the same way they welcomed him as a brother, but better to find out now if they decided not to welcome him at all because of this.

"They're draenei," he said reluctantly.

There was an intake of breath and then silence for a moment. Galmak wished he could read his clansman's expression.

"Go into the Aerie Peaks north and west of Hammerfall," the voice finally said. "We will find you when you're close to us."

Galmak nodded and the dream dissolved around him, leaving him to sleep undisturbed for the rest of the night.

* * *

It would take about a day's ride to get to Hammerfall. Galmak seemed a little subdued and preoccupied, but Hyara understood the reason. He had been born at the internment camp that had now become the Horde's major settlement here, so the place held special meaning for him. Unfortunately that special meaning was not entirely pleasant and Galmak didn't choose to think about it very often. Olkhor seemed to catch on to Galmak's mood and may have guessed some of the reason behind it because the old orc began prodding him for details about Hammerfall's history. Galmak answered him as shortly as he could manage. He didn't share his parents' sorrowful, quiet drive to escape the past by spreading knowledge of it.

But Olkhor didn't seem inclined to let the young orc escape so easily.

"Funny how we've swapped places now, isn't it," Olkhor said with a touch of venom. "I want to know what you can tell me and suddenly it's so much better to let it all lie."

"It isn't the same," Galmak muttered. "You want to hear the bad parts."

"To my view, there weren't any good parts in what you wanted to hear either."

"I thought we determined that wasn't true," Galmak glared. "The ancestors weren't talking to me from the Legion."

"And what do you think I remember from most of my life, my young clansman? Not the time of the ancestors. I was young as you or younger when I swore my soul away, and the Legion had already been twisting at us for years before that. I don't know your utopia. If you find it, let me know," Olkhor said bitterly.

Galmak's face burned in shame and anger. He snarled a command to his wolf, surging forward ahead of the group to ride some distance down the road by himself. Hyara let out a small sigh and let him go, knowing better than to follow him. Gheris was looking away over the highlands' rock-strewn hills toward where Gink and Palla were both nosing after something in the distance.

"Well, look at this," the old orc laughed dourly. "Now I've got myself a draenei escort." He reached out a hand and grabbed Hyara's tail, trying to pull her horse closer.

In a flash, Hyara had an axe out and pressed the blade lightly into his side. "Do that again and you'll be missing a hand or more," she hissed.

Gheris looked shocked. Olkhor had frozen but he relaxed visibly as Hyara slowly withdrew the axe.

"Taboo, is that?" the old orc muttered, looking sidelong at both of them. He seemed a little embarrassed. "Didn't know… he does it all the time." He nodded toward Galmak up ahead on the road.

"Yes, my _mate_ does it," Hyara said angrily. "Be sure you never touch me again."

"Well, ah…" Olkhor swallowed and stared down at his hands where they tightly gripped his wolf's saddle. He glared and swallowed again. "I… I'm sorry then. And I'm sorry I insulted you on the road that time."

Hyara was stunned speechless for a moment, but then she couldn't help but smile. "Apology accepted," she said and extended her hand.

Olkhor hesitated and she thought she saw the ghost of a smile cross his face for an instant. "I have your permission to touch your hand, do I?" he asked.

"Yes," she said solemnly and his huge hand swallowed hers briefly.

Up ahead Galmak had halted his wolf and was waiting for the rest of them, gazing off toward the distant mountains. He resumed the ride silently at Hyara's side but he gave her a small smile and rested a hand on her leg. She returned the smile encouragingly and hoped his spirits would rise soon. She thought it might help if Olkhor would give him an apology too, but that would mean hell freezing over twice in a day and she wasn't holding out hope for that. Later on she'd tell Galmak about the apology she'd gotten; that would surely cheer him up some.

They passed several other groups of travelers on the road that wound northeast through the hills to Hammerfall, but Gheris didn't seem to be very concerned about moving out of sight for any Horde. Instead, he merely raised a hand and nodded a greeting right along with Galmak when they passed a pair of tauren headed the opposite direction.

"A little respect goes a long way," the vindicator shrugged when Galmak commented on his fearlessness. "You might be surprised the situations I've gotten out of. Besides, if we run into a group big enough to give us trouble they'd probably find me hiding someplace off the road anyway."

That didn't stop Hyara from extending her senses to search uneasily the closer they got to Hammerfall. She well remembered that night on the road out of Hellfire Peninsula during her first week in Outland and she dreaded the day they might again run across people like that trio who wouldn't be very likely to care that she counted herself loyal to the Kanrethad and not the Alliance. And if they didn't care about that, they certainly wouldn't hesitate to kill a member of the Alliance, regardless of how respectful he was toward them.

The group stopped short of Hammerfall as twilight began to drop across the hills, and they set up a camp at the base of a tor within a stone's long throw of the guards patrolling the town's walls. They were uneasy about staying the night out in the open, given the story they'd heard from the tauren on the ship about the raiding bands plaguing the area lately, but of course Gheris wouldn't be welcome in the Horde settlement. Instead, Galmak rode into town to inform the guards that they'd be camping within sight of the walls. Hopefully they would be near enough to town to discourage an attack, and if the guards knew they were there they would be unlikely to be mistaken for an enemy.

As dusk fell on the group's little camp, Galmak looked up at the mountains silhouetted against the darkening sky, their snowy peaks glowing faintly in the dying sunlight. He wondered what he'd find up there. How many of his clansmen were there, and how many others were with them? The Aerie Peaks were a harsh place to call home. He pulled his eyes away from the mountains and concentrated briefly on the feel of the elements around him, sorting through the now-familiar threads of feeling until he had coaxed forth a tiny flame, flickering weakly in his palm. He focused on it until it grew into a healthy blaze, then pushed it carefully over to feed on the pile of tinder and wood Hyara had arranged.

"That's pretty handy," Gheris yawned, settling his back against a boulder.

"Maybe a little too handy," Galmak grunted. The hunter half of him that had learned to make a fire without magic laughed derisively at that skill and called it cheating. It was such a small thing; perhaps he ought to go back to his trusty flint. Palla rested her muzzle on his leg and he sighed to himself and ran his fingers through her fur. Could he ever find a balance within himself?

To his other side, Hyara rested her head against his shoulder and he put a warm arm around her. She was bundled in a blanket; spring was still chilly at night in the highlands.

"You haven't been back here in a long time, have you?" she said softly.

He shook his head. "I never had any reason to. More than that, I never wanted to. I heard enough about it from my parents." His voice rumbled low, for her ears only.

"But you were born here. It can't have been all bad for them." The years surrounding her husband's birth were still something of a mystery to her and she found that troubling. His parents had told him so much that he'd chosen to remain silent about. Her own parents had told her so little and there was so much she wished she knew, so much she'd heard only from others outside her family: teachers, friends, friends' parents. She didn't even know…

"Gheris, where was I born?" she asked quietly, suddenly not caring if the question called up painful memories for him.

Her brother looked startled but then he frowned into the fire. "You're joking," he murmured. "They never even told you that? They were wrong not to tell you that much at least. You were born in Zangarmarsh, Hyara. And I didn't realize it then, but it was the best day of my life and the reason I cared about continuing." He looked away into the darkness. "Everyone has a right to know where they come from."

Hyara felt tears on her cheeks but she smiled to herself. She'd been born amidst the mushrooms. She liked that thought. She reached out to her brother and he squeezed her hand tightly, his face still averted.

Olkhor stirred the fire and watched the sparks swirl upward on the wind. His face was surprisingly calm, free of the glower he usually displayed to the world.

"And I was born in Blade's Edge," he said quietly. "My father used to take me out with the hunting parties when I was old enough to sit a wolf with him. Remember nights when I could hardly sleep from the excitement. Just a huge world full of adventure and honor to be earned and I could barely lift an axe for myself. And then the Kosh'harg festivals in the spring and fall… When I was just a youngling I'd fall asleep on my mother's lap in front of the fire almost before it was dark. Those were always the days to get up to mischief with the other children." A sad smile twitched his lips. "Most of all that died with my childhood. Died when me and the rest of my ilk decided to kill it."

They listened in silence as Olkhor finally spoke the memories he hadn't let himself think of in so many years. At last the old orc looked up from the fire and met Galmak's eyes. "You were right about what you said. There is some good worth knowing. And worth remembering."

Galmak nodded slowly and an understanding seemed to pass between the two orcs.

"I've found that there usually is," Galmak said, almost to himself. Perhaps he'd always missed the point of his parents' stories of his birth. His mind had always latched onto the despair and brutality that he'd been born in the middle of, but he could remember now the light that had always entered his parents' faces when they talked about his birth. Even in the darkest of places… Hyara, unexpectedly there at the bars of his cell, reaching out to him. Raizha's little snippets of news. That note, and the greatest, most intense surge of hope he'd ever experienced in his life.

Galmak smiled into the flames without seeing them. "Time to sleep. We have a climb ahead of us tomorrow."

Hyara lay down at his side but her luminous eyes stayed wide in the darkness. She'd take the first watch and then she'd wake Gheris for his turn. And then perhaps she'd dream about her little city on top of a mushroom, the place she'd been born.

* * *


	8. Unpleasant Surprises

* * *

**A/N:** Uh oh. ;)

--

* * *

Spring was climbing the Aerie Peaks slowly and Galmak hoped they wouldn't outpace it before they found his clansmen. His eyes rose to the sheer walls and fields of white far beyond the new green of bushes and pines that surrounded them now. Surely no one would chose to live up there in the harsh cold and bare rock.

They'd been climbing since dawn, watching the sun slide slowly upward and splash orange light through the trees that pressed close around the path. It was hardly even a path, really; more of a mere goat track that twisted in a thousand switchbacks through the rocks and brush. Gheris had jokingly complained of dizziness, but it was beginning to seem less like a joke as they headed into late morning.

"You alright there, boy?" Gheris patted his elekk and the animal trumpeted irritably.

"Almost doesn't fit," Olkhor said with a smirk, twisting around to look at the enormous elekk following him on the narrow trail.

"I think that's what's got him unhappy," Gheris said, patting the animal again. "Elekk have thick hide, but honestly. Who wants branches scraping them for hours on end?"

_The switchbacks stop about a quarter of an hour ahead of you_, Palla said from somewhere up the mountain a short way.

_Gods, finally. Do you see any signs of people?_

_Not yet._

Galmak grunted in disappointment, but he told himself not to be ridiculous. His clansman had said they were in the Hinterlands; by Galmak's own reckoning, the group couldn't have passed out of Arathi yet. Borders were at best hazy up here in the wilderness, but they had only been traveling for half a day and although their mounts had walked many miles on the steep switchbacks, they hadn't moved much as the crow flies. That was a somewhat discouraging thought too, though, and Galmak pushed it away.

"We'll get there, love," Hyara laughed from behind him. He chuckled, realizing how well she could read him even from behind.

"Has Gink seen anything?" he asked.

She shook her head, extending her senses automatically toward where her cat trailed them a short distance back down the mountain. "No one's following and he hasn't found any signs of people living up here. But you could hardly expect them to live on this slope." She smiled at her husband.

"Palla's telling me we start climbing more gradually soon. Maybe then…"

"So impatient!" Hyara laughed.

He grinned ruefully but didn't answer. Too true; he was impatient. They'd come a long way for this, all the way from Karkun Kamil, and yet he didn't even know what to expect to find up here.

"Gheris, is this enough of an adventure for you?" he called back.

The draenei pretended to consider. "Well now, I don't know. We haven't seen Olkhor drunk yet."

The old orc guffawed and swiveled around to eye Gheris. "That's a good thing, whelp. No one wants to see me drunk on account of it being a real bad view."

"I would believe that," Gheris grinned. "But where's the fun in taking no risks?"

"Anyway, I thought you Light-worshipping types, you… what, vindicators?... didn't take too kindly to the bottle, but I keep seeing and hearing otherwise out of you," Olkhor said suspiciously.

"Eh," Gheris shrugged dismissively. "There's no oath to that effect. Some people think it's important, but I don't share that opinion. There are much bigger things to worry about than flagellating yourself for no good reason."

Olkhor grunted and promptly dropped the subject.

Finally they topped a ridge and the vertiginous switchbacks ended. The trail stretched out ahead, not straight or flat, but at a much more gradual ascent up the pine-furred slope. Galmak turned to look back and saw the Arathi Highlands spread out below them in a gold and green watercolor of rolling hills. Hammerfall squatted in miniature like a big brown beetle in the midst of the open grasslands. He breathed in the spice of pine and squinted toward the sun; just after noon now. He grinned at Hyara and pointed for her to turn around for the view. If nothing else, at least this was a beautiful place to see.

They stopped for a mid-day meal in the sunlight. Galmak perched on a boulder and gazed thoughtfully up the mountain. Here and there he could see breaks in the treetops, presumably where the trail cut through the forest and continued to snake its way up the mountain. They looked to be less than a half-day's ride from the summit of this particular mountain, and Galmak presumed the trail must somewhere bypass the summit and head into the valley before the next mountain. Idly he wondered if one could traverse the entire width of the range on this trail and end up descending into the enormous bowl of a valley that harbored the major settlements of the Hinterlands. Hopefully they wouldn't have to go even half that far before they found what they sought.

Palla dashed out of the trees and sat down at his side with a hare clamped in her jaws. He gave her a quick scratch on the head before she started her meal. Hyara made a face and turned her back. She and Gink had a well-established understanding that he was never to eat a warm, bloody meal near her, something which he'd accepted long ago as one of his mistress's odd but endearing quirks. Galmak and Palla had no such understanding and her meals didn't bother the orc in the slightest. He occasionally liked his meat pretty raw too.

"What do you reckon, Galmak?" Gheris squinted at the orc against the sun, shading his eyes and fanning the leather of his tunic away from his chest. The air up here was cool, but the intensity of the sun was unlike anything in the lower altitudes.

"My best guess is we'll be either well down the other side of this mountain or at the bottom of the valley by nightfall," Galmak replied. "I might… ah, see what happens tonight. See if I can get any further direction."

Gheris nodded and stood to stretch his long limbs. "All this pine reminds me of home," he said a bit wistfully.

"Oh, I meant to ask… Is Grandfather still in Exodar or did he go back to Azure Watch?" Hyara looked up at her brother questioningly.

"He's still in Exodar, last I heard. The council is being ornery about deciding something and they've been in session for a while now. Why do you ask?"

She shrugged. "Just wondering how soon he'll get that letter," she muttered. She'd rather hoped Gheris might get there first and be able to explain things in person. Her brother usually ended up back home sooner rather than later.

"It wouldn't have bought you much time anyway if- " Gheris broke off abruptly and his body suddenly tensed. "There are undead near," he said in a low voice. His tail was swaying slowly and his eyes held intense focus as he stared into the trees to the north.

The two hunters immediately reached out to feel for themselves and confirm what the vindicator had sensed.

"What… maybe twenty?" Galmak whispered.

Gheris and Hyara both nodded. They were moving close together, making it difficult to detect them individually.

"Get back into the trees," Hyara breathed to her brother and Olkhor. The men led their mounts away and melted as silently as they could off the path into the slim cover of the forest. There wasn't much undergrowth here but if they could get far enough away, they might still be missed by whatever was coming toward them. Hyara and Galmak hung back a moment, expertly erasing signs of the group's presence as well as they could. Gink and Palla had both slipped away to circle around the approaching party.

Galmak swore under his breath as his senses suddenly told him they were also being approached from the direction Olkhor and Gheris had taken. He was about to go after them when the other two men appeared from among the trees again.

"There are more that direction," Gheris whispered. Galmak nodded and motioned toward their last good option: east through the forest and up the more gradual slope of the mountain's shoulder. He struggled for a moment to reach out to the wind and finally caught it, confirming what the limits of his hunter senses had told him. There were no undead east of them for the moment.

They moved swiftly and as silently as possible away from the path to the east, cutting across the mountain's slope. Galmak looked back at Gheris's elekk and grimaced; the huge beast was not only making the most noise of any of them, it was cutting a visible trail of broken branches and pine needles underfoot and disturbing the small animals living in the trees. The fussing and chattering of squirrels followed them through the forest. At least the elekk was well-trained enough not to protest, though; it could sense the tension in its master and knew to keep silent.

After a quarter of an hour they reached a low rocky hogback running down the mountain. They might be able to climb it, but it was an effective wall for their mounts unless they could find a breach somewhere nearby. At Galmak's signal the group halted and sought the limited shelter of a cluster of boulders. They all dismounted and huddled for a conference.

"Well, we're trapped for the moment," Galmak said grimly. "We can hope they didn't even notice we were there and haven't tried to follow us, but I think we need to find a way around this ridge." Everyone nodded.

"Why in hells are there undead up here?" Gheris asked. "And so many of them too."

"No idea. I've never heard about any undead up in the Aerie Peaks," Galmak answered.

"We can always hope it's just a bunch of Forsaken… er, getting some fresh air in the mountains," Hyara said weakly.

"I'm going to go north and look for a way around this. Hyara, you go south with Gink. Palla will stay near you two and warn you if anything gets close." Galmak gave his riding wolf a pat to stay and started north along the hogback.

"We just sit on our asses," Olkhor grumped.

"Then do what you want, Olkhor," Galmak said impatiently. "We don't have time for arguing."

"I'm not sure we ought to be separating at all," Gheris said, looking apprehensively toward where his sister had vanished into the trees down the slope. "But I guess we don't have much choice. Alright, I'm not much for being stealthy, but I'll head back into the trees a ways and watch out for them."

"And I guess I'll sit on my ass with the mounts," Olkhor grunted as Gheris retraced their path back west. The vindicator's senses would give them warning of an approach, but there wouldn't be much they could do about it. The two of them couldn't very well hope to lead four mounts away silently or quickly.

Galmak traveled uphill at a pace that would have rapidly tired most other people. The wind was at his back nudging him on, and he was grateful for its help. He'd have to find a way over the ridge quickly or there would be no time to take it. A smile suddenly split his face and he stopped his headlong rush, placing his palms against the rock and reaching out to the earth. It heeded his call and his mind traveled into the rock of the ridge, flowing swiftly through it to the north. He felt the myriad faults and fractures of the stone, the slow brush of wind and water and time against its faces. And there were no breaks in the ridge as far as his senses could travel. He cursed, knowing they'd have to travel this way and hope their path wasn't anticipated and headed off. Then a thought struck him. Could he…? Hesitantly he pushed; the stone responded with a low, ponderous rumble. He could create a breach; the stone would allow him. But the noise and the disruption that would make… Galmak shook his head and started back down the mountain, praying that Hyara had had better luck south.

Hyara slipped out of the trees soon after Galmak returned. Gink prowled off to the west to round up Gheris and then the little group set about deciding what to do.

"How about south?" Gheris asked after Galmak had recounted his discouraging news.

Hyara shook her head. "No breaks until it ends on this side in a near-cliff at the slope we just climbed on the switchbacks," she answered.

Galmak growled. "Then we have two options. We lie low here and hope they're not coming after us, or we go north and hope they either give up, lose the trail, or we outdistance them."

Olkhor gave a growl of his own and glared around at the rest of them. "I say we don't just sit here and wait for them to catch us."

"I agree," Hyara and Gheris both said together and Galmak nodded.

There was a sudden shout through the trees to the west. "Shit," Galmak spat and they all leapt into action, urging their mounts desperately north along the ridge.

Hyara almost gasped as their pursuers came nearer and the sense of several dozen undead burst suddenly into her mind. They had unwittingly stirred up quite a hunting party. She spared a look behind and cried out in confusion and alarm. _What in all hells?_

"Galmak," she cried. "Look!"

He turned at his wife's shout and his heart froze; if he'd been running under his own power he would have stumbled in shock. Riders were emerging on huge brown mountain wolves from the trees behind them down the slope. The riders were unmistakably, undeniably orcs. Galmak's mind tried to reconcile what his hunter senses were telling him with what his eyes were telling him. Undead orcs? The plague didn't make undead orcs; it only made dead orcs. As far as Galmak knew, it had a nasty tendency to only reanimate native Azeroth species and leave the rest to just plain rot. But then his survival instincts kicked back in over his shock. He could ponder that later; right now they needed to get away. He shouted and waved an arm, urging everyone faster.

"What the fuck!" Olkhor yelled. "I thought you said they were dead! They don't look dead!"

"They're undead!" Galmak yelled back.

Gheris's elekk trumpeted in fury and suddenly the huge animal stumbled and slowed. Hyara screamed and instinctively reached out to her brother as he fell behind, but then her horse also staggered, its eyes rolling in fear. The animal bucked and reared, throwing her out of the saddle. The wind left her as she slammed into the ground and she lay stunned.

Galmak roared in frustration, knowing they were all lost now, and barked a sharp command to his wolf. He leapt off, bow in hand, and tore back down the slope to where Hyara lay. Gheris's elekk had sunk to its front knees and the draenei was sliding off with his giant warhammer gripped in one hand. Hyara pushed herself up painfully with Galmak's help and they turned their eyes back the way they had come.

"Guess here's where we fight," Olkhor said sardonically, jumping off his wolf.

The pursuing undead were still loping up the mountain and closing fast. Galmak could count somewhere around thirty of them, just from what he could see through the trees. Instinct was telling him to raise his bow now and get to work while they were still at maximum range, but the saner part of him said that was a hopeless route to take against so many.

"We'll fight if we have to," he growled, resting a protective hand on Hyara's shoulder. "But there's only one outcome for that. Their spellcasters didn't aim for us; they aimed for the mounts. Maybe they're willing to talk." He didn't voice the dreadful suspicion that had leapt into his mind at the moment he had first seen their pursuers.

But it had occurred to Hyara too. "Love… are these them?" she said softly, fear lacing her voice.

"I don't know," he answered grimly. "Gods, I don't know if I hope they are or not."

The distance closed rapidly and the riders loped up, stopped near the little group, and circled their wolves around to hem them in against the base of the ridge. Galmak stepped in front of Hyara and pressed her away back against the rock. A low growl rumbled deep in his throat and he realized Olkhor was making the same sound. There was something inexplicably dangerous about the sway of Gheris's tail as the vindicator stood with his hammer resting easily in his hands.

There were thirty-two of them, Galmak could see now, and they definitely looked like orcs. Their skin and forms seemed to be intact, with none of the decay or missing features that so often afflicted the Forsaken and the Scourge that Galmak had seen. There was a strangeness about them, though, that even someone without a hunter's or a paladin's senses would have been able to recognize up close. Their skin seemed oddly pallid beneath the green of the orcish skin, as if the color had been bleached in the sun. A chill ran over Galmak in spite of himself, looking up into the eyes of one of the nearest. Their eyes smoldered with a wicked amber light.

There was silence for a moment, broken only by the sigh of the wind through the pines, as the pursuers and their quarry studied each other. Then one of the beings in the center of the half-ring spoke, stepping his great brown wolf slightly forward. The creature who looked like an orc wore deep scarlet robes beneath a chain tunic and his stringy white hair was gathered back into a high knot. Powerful muscles rippled beneath his pallid green skin.

"One of you is a shaman of the Thunderlord clan," the undead said in a soft voice that rumbled like the grate of rock. His luminous amber eyes settled to rest on Olkhor.

The old orc glared back at him unflinchingly. "That would be him." He jerked his head toward Galmak. "Some welcome you're giving us."

Galmak stepped forward with his hands resting prominently on his axes and stared defiantly up at the rider. "I'm Galmak Bloodscry of the Thunderlord clan. What do you mean by harrying us like this?"

A smile twitched across the undead's face. "There is no doubt of who you are, my young brother. You are the one who cries out from dreams, who seeks the blood you never knew. You are the one who moves earth and calls fire. You are the one who brings draenei to us after all these years.

"I, and others here, are the blood you seek. I am Var'kan, once of the Thunderlord clan. Welcome to our mountains." The undead spread his hands wide away from the daggers at his side and bowed from atop his wolf.

"You're not who I was expecting to find," Galmak said flatly, his suspicions and worries unassuaged.

Var'kan chuckled. "We are rarely found, but when we are, we are never expected. We came to find you and escort you to our home." His eyes traveled back to Olkhor and he bowed once again. "You are our other clansman?"

Olkhor nodded and crossed his arms. "I'm Olkhor," he said shortly.

"And your mate and her brother of which you spoke," Var'kan nodded slowly and his lips curled into a smile around yellowed tusks. Hyara and Gheris stared back uneasily. "And you are a paladin," he said to Gheris. "You may find your stay with us instructive." He laughed in a deep boom that startled birds from the nearby trees.

"I want your word that you'll do no harm to my mate or her brother," Galmak growled.

Var'kan cocked his head slightly and his eyes narrowed. "You come very near to dishonoring us by suggesting we wouldn't give them the same welcome we give you, young brother."

"If it's a choice between not dishonoring you and assuring my mate's safety, I'll choose her safety every time," Galmak answered grimly, tightening his grip on his axes.

"Then so be it," Var'kan nodded curtly. "You have my assurance. They bear the same welcome you do."

"And if we choose not to take that welcome and continue on our way?" Olkhor asked.

"Then that _would_ dishonor us," Var'kan answered. "And we would not suffer that lightly."

Hyara stepped forward to Galmak's side. "Are we prisoners, then?" she asked.

Var'kan smiled and examined her for a moment, but Hyara didn't flinch under his disconcerting gaze. "You are honored guests," he replied.

She glared back at him, itching to tell him what she thought of that, but it would only make a delicate situation worse. Galmak had obviously had no hint of these people's true nature. None of them had come up here expecting anything more than perhaps a few aged survivors scraping a living in the wilderness. She glanced over at her brother and wished she could do something for him; Gheris looked tense as a wound spring.

"You never should have come along," she whispered regretfully to her brother as they mounted back up. The undead closed in around them on all sides, spreading out in a loose ring through the trees and herding them up the mountain.

"It's like I said earlier. Where's the fun in not taking any risks?" he said, but his laughter was strained. "Besides, I never would have forgiven myself if I'd left you to get into this on your own."

Var'kan's wolf had fallen into step close at Galmak's side and he never moved more than several paces away except when the trees wouldn't permit them to ride close. Galmak twisted around and was relieved to see that Hyara was riding beside Gheris; she'd be safe enough there for now and maybe he could get a few answers out of the undead as they rode.

"Alright," Galmak said. "If we're to be… uh, your guests, would you mind telling us about where we're going?"

"Where we're going?" Var'kan smiled. "We're only going to our village further in the mountains. Why don't you ask the question you are most interested in, young brother?"

No sense dancing around the issue then. "How did you become undead?" Galmak asked bluntly.

Var'kan smiled again and blinked his amber eyes slowly before answering. "We were once servants of the Lich King, followers of the Cult of the Damned."

Galmak drew a sharp breath and felt a sudden chill raise his hair. "You were _once_, you say."

"Yes, once. We found it lacking. We found we could better serve ourselves without a need to serve Kel'Thuzad and the Lich King. And so we planned, we studied, and we waited, and then we melted quietly away into non-existence many years ago. And then of course we were free to grant ourselves what our former masters were loath to: immortality in undeath. We were very fortunate in our prescience as it turned out, as Kel'Thuzad is no longer in a position to bestow immortality, or much of anything else, upon his followers." Var'kan's grin held a feral quality that seemed at home on the face of an undead orc.

Galmak cursed himself silently. He'd dragged them all into this; he should somehow have seen this coming, should have been more cautious, less trusting in the honor of his clansmen… But he knew those thoughts were futile now; he couldn't have anticipated this. And after all, these undead hadn't done anything dishonorable yet. Perhaps there was still some honor left inside their bodies whatever their former allegiances. They had once been living orcs and they might still remember their duty to their own blood.

"You told my mate we're your honored guests," Galmak said, taking care to put a bit of extra emphasis on the 'honored' part. "What exactly does that mean?"

"Why, it means exactly what you would think it to mean anywhere else. We wish to learn from you, learn about you. Learn about your mate and her brother. We were not aware of any remaining clansmen beside ourselves, and we had heard only rumors of draenei on Azeroth. Perhaps you may learn from us as well. I think we will find you fascinating, young brother," Var'kan chuckled. "Tell me, have you found others?"

"Only Olkhor," Galmak answered, utterly unmotivated to tell Var'kan about his parents.

The undead examined the young orc for a moment, smiling thinly. Galmak kept his eyes firmly forward up the mountain and hoped his face was unreadable.

But Var'kan seemed unperturbed by Galmak's reticence and continued, "This is a unique opportunity for us. Naturally our contact with the outside world is very limited, so we were delighted to be ourselves contacted by someone whom I'm certain we can trust."

Galmak grunted, unsure what to make of that. "Are there other Thunderlords in this group?" he asked, glancing around at the party of undead encircling them.

"Oh yes, a few," Var'kan answered. "You will meet them in due course. Right now we ride as quickly as we're able. We will make it to our village by morning."

"By morning?" Galmak raised an eyebrow. "You can't be serious. We can't ride all night, and our mounts certainly can't carry us all night."

Var'kan chuckled. "You may not be able to ride all night without sleep, young brother, but we are well able to. We have spells that increase the endurance of our mounts. You needn't fear; you will be able to sleep as we continue. You can be tied on – loosely, of course! – so you don't fall from your saddle."

"We'd much rather stop and sleep," Galmak growled.

"But I'm afraid that's impossible," Var'kan smiled.

No choice. Inwardly Galmak seethed with frustration.

_Did you really expect one_? Palla thought cynically from outside the encircling undead.

_This dropped straight out of my hands awfully fast. What can you tell me about them?_

_Not very much. They smell worse than Gink; an unnatural, cold smell_, she replied. _It's different from how the Forsaken smell._

_They weren't raised by the plague, they raised themselves with some kind of necromantic magic_. He growled mentally and suppressed a shudder, trying to recall what he'd heard about the Cult of the Damned. It wasn't much. This group must have been some of the few to elude the humans and avoid the internment camps. And then they'd somehow mixed themselves up with Kel'Thuzad and his horrific activities for the Scourge.

Galmak turned to look behind him. Olkhor was slouched in his saddle, a miserable scowl plastered across his face. Hyara and Gheris rode silently close on the old orc's heels. Gheris's usual easy smile was notably absent and Hyara looked as if she were about to crawl out of her skin. With a sigh Galmak realized he was probably taking this better than any of the rest of them; after all, he was at least accustomed to being around the Forsaken. He beckoned to Hyara and she urged her horse up to ride at his side. Gheris's elekk fell in step beside Olkhor's wolf. Var'kan looked back, curious but seemingly unconcerned, when Galmak fell behind him to ride with Hyara.

Quietly, Galmak filled her in on what the undead had told him. "And now they're going to make us ride all night until we're at their village and so far lost in the mountains we won't be able to leave without their help," he finished grimly.

"What!" Hyara hissed. "We can't ride all night. Our mounts can't handle it even if we don't fall out of our saddles from exhaustion."

"Oh, they have that taken care of too. He said they have spells to help our mounts and there's nothing a friendly length of rope won't fix for keeping us safely onboard all night."

"Galmak, I'm liking this less and less with every minute," she moaned softly. He squeezed her hand and gave her a reassuring smile even though he could use some reassuring for himself.

"They've behaved honorably so far, love, even if they've been more assertive and invasive than we'd like. Obviously they're different creatures now than they were, but I'd like to hope they've still got their orcish sense of clan and honor intact. Just keep your eyes open. And you're staying near me at all times. I don't care what sorts of polite excuses Var'kan tries to give, you're not going anywhere without me."

Hyara wanted very badly to wrap her arms around him, but she settled for clinging tightly to his hand. She'd felt the unsettling crawl of eyes wandering incessantly to her and Gheris since they'd first been cornered at the ridge and she wanted to do nothing to draw further attention or comment to herself. From what Galmak had said, most, if not all, of these orcs must be old enough to remember Draenor. Many had probably taken part in events there. They likely wouldn't have seen a draenei since… She stopped herself firmly from traveling that train of thought and squeezed Galmak's hand more tightly.

"You're liable to break my fingers with that grip, love," he joked, grinning lopsidedly at her.

She summoned up a smile of her own and briefly squeezed harder, knowing she couldn't come close to injuring his powerful hand. He chuckled softly and rubbed his thumb along her fingers.

"We'll figure something out," he said quietly and she nodded in renewed determination. "I'd like to talk to Olkhor about this but I suppose it'll have to wait."

"That's right…" Hyara said thoughtfully. "He might have known some of these people. I wonder if he recognizes Var'kan?"

"We'll see," Galmak said, shooting a quick look behind. He had half expected the old orc to spend the entire journey sending his ferocious glare at everyone, but Olkhor was still slumped disgruntledly on his wolf and staring alternately straight ahead and down at his hands. "Have you been keeping track of where we're going?" He knew she would be but he wanted the reassurance.

She nodded. "It seems like we must be running along with the path, though not on it. Still roughly north. Getting there by morning would put us well into the Hinterlands."

He grunted in agreement and squinted up at the sun flitting occasionally across patches of open sky through the pines. "Keep track as long as you can. We're going to have a gap while we're asleep, obviously, but the shorter the gap, the better. Once we get to their village we can try and get our bearings again."

"Good thing we have you two to keep track. I'd be pretty useless trying to find my way in this forest alone." Hyara looked back to see Gheris leaning low over his elekk to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"What's this I hear about tying us to our mounts?" he asked, sending a dark look toward Var'kan. Galmak explained and Gheris growled disgustedly. "Sounds like the first step to tying us up for good and tossing us in a cage. I don't mean any offense to you, Galmak, but I like these so-called clansmen of yours not one bit."

"I don't care for them much either," Galmak said. "And we're going to get away at the first opportunity."

The undead pushed them on gruelingly all day. Var'kan had spoken the truth; neither the undead nor their mounts ever seemed to tire. When the group's mounts began to falter after an entire day with little rest, several spellcasters came forward to direct undulating tendrils of some strange, shadowy magic at the animals. After that the mounts continued with renewed energy as if they'd had a full day's rest. Hyara shuddered at the horrible unnaturalness of it all and patted her poor horse apologetically.

Night eventually fell, coming earlier here in the mountains. Hyara remained awake and upright in her saddle for as long as she could, dreading the time when one of these creatures would approach and tie her. The rest of the group seemed to be trying to remain stubbornly awake also. It was chilly in the mountain darkness, almost cold in fact, and that helped, but sometime hours after nightfall Hyara felt heaviness settling on her eyelids. She jerked awake and found that she'd fallen forward and slipped to the side. There was a hand clamped around her right arm and she struggled through the confusion of sleep to pull away.

"Shh, it's alright, it's just me," came Galmak's voice softly at her side.

She swallowed in relief and settled herself properly back in her saddle, but Var'kan had craned around and his yellowish eyes glimmered at them in the darkness.

"Time for sleep, I see," he laughed softly, raising a hand and making a sharp gesture in the air. At once the circle of undead riders began to collapse inward and slow, forcing the little central group to slow also. They all pulled their mounts to a halt. Gheris jumped down immediately and the rest followed suit.

"We are not stopping for long," Var'kan said, staring at the big draenei.

Gheris stared right back. "If I'm going to be tied to an elekk all night I'm damned well going to stretch my legs first."

"Indeed, indeed," Var'kan said, instantly agreeable again. "Quite an impressive beast, that elekk. Amusing that your people carried them here from Draenor. But then I do remember you all did seem rather attached to them even back then," he smiled, walking a leisurely circle around the elekk to examine it.

Gheris bit back a comment with a visible effort and instead gazed indifferently into the trees.

Var'kan let them all rest for a few minutes and collect themselves before continuing the ride. Hyara needed to make a visit to the trees and she said as much to Galmak in a low whisper. She wasn't going out there on her own with undead eyes peering at her in the darkness.

"Of course," Var'kan nodded matter-of-factly. He made another motion and the circle parted to let them through. Hyara tried to ignore the several undead who tailed them the short distance through the trees. Gheris and Olkhor were also outside the circle now and Galmak scanned his eyes speculatively through the dark trees.

"We can see out here far better than you can, whelp," a voice hissed nearby.

Hyara jumped and felt her face flush. _They're undead; they surely don't care anything about my modesty_. She didn't know if that made it better or worse.

"Is that so," Galmak said as they walked back to the mounts. Orcs had exceptional night vision relative to most other races, but he supposed these people were in a position to judge.

The moment Hyara had been dreading arrived when they reentered the circle and mounted back up. She sat still and meek as one of the undead wound a rope around her and secured her into the saddle, not wanting to give the creature any need to linger so close for very long. Galmak didn't seem as bothered by these beings, but Olkhor looked disgusted and poor Gheris was having an even worse time than she was. She tried to give her brother a bracing smile, but she imagined it must have come off so weak he'd missed it in the dark. She looked down once the undead had finished and was surprised to see that the knots had been placed well within her reach.

Hyara was saddle-sore, uncomfortable, and cold, but she was also exhausted and before long her head drooped and her eyes closed. The night rushed by around her and strange, haunting dreams crowded her mind.

* * *


	9. Teyagah

* * *

**A/N**: Another lemon incoming; beware.

* * *

The sun was last in a long line of things that broke Galmak's sleep over the course of that hellish night. He raised his head from his wolf's neck to find the forest fully awake in the early morning around him. Hyara was awake on her horse next to him and she gave him a wan little smile as he sat up.

"Morning, love," she greeted him softly and he patted her hand.

"Sleep any better than I did?" he asked with a yawn.

"I don't think anybody did." She pointed discreetly to Olkhor behind them; the ferocious glare was no longer absent from his expression. Galmak surprised himself by managing a laugh. If Olkhor was grumpy again, the world had righted itself at least a little bit.

Ahead of them, Var'kan suddenly threw his head back and let out a tremendous bellow that bounced through the trees. Somewhere ahead the sound echoed off rock and died. Gheris jerked out of a doze at the sound and cursed luridly in Draenei.

Galmak peered through the trees and thought he could make out a clearing up ahead. They had reached a stretch of land that had flattened out somewhat and now they were beginning a slight descent into what appeared to be a small, bowl-like valley nestled in the mountains. The pines began to thin, then dropped away altogether, and their destination lay before them in the shadow of a cliff face that formed a wall on the far side of the valley. It was a small village, but not as small as Galmak had expected. There were several large buildings of weathered pine which looked to have seen decades of use, and numerous smaller buildings, clearly houses, clustered nearby across the valley. They were all functional rather than ornamental in any way, simple and boxy in their design with roofs steeply peaked to shed the heavy mountain snow in winter. Everything seemed to be built in a style that suggested human planning rather than orc, and Galmak supposed it must be because of the abundance of wood here – orcs were accustomed to using other materials for most of their structures and so these people must have adopted the human style as more suitable here.

In front of many of the buildings, orcs stood watching the party's approach. From a distance they might have looked at home in Orgrimmar, but Galmak could feel not one living being among them. They, like Var'kan and his riders, appeared to have fully retained their orcish appearances except for the unnerving pallor and glowing yellow-orange eyes. The party rode into the center of the little village and Var'kan motioned for a halt. Hyara shivered involuntarily and told herself it was from the morning chill, not from the many dozens of lambent undead eyes fixed on her. The wolfriders dismounted and several came forward to untie the ropes binding the group to their mounts. Hyara watched with a sick feeling as their mounts were led away. The group was well and truly trapped without them.

"My brothers and sisters," Var'kan addressed the other undead with a wide smile. "We've returned with the shaman who speaks in dreams. He brings a kinsman as well, and also his mate and her brother." His eyes glittered as he turned to rest a hand on Galmak's shoulder. The young orc didn't flinch but stood straight and gazed back at the small crowd appraisingly.

"We must welcome Galmak Bloodscry and Olkhor of the Thunderlord clan. They desire to learn from us and meet others who were once of their clan. I have every confidence their time here will be fruitful." A few in the crowd seemed to take that as a dismissal and moved purposefully away to resume whatever business they'd been about before the group arrived. Others held their places and studied the group with unreadable gazes that seemed to linger a little longer on the draenei.

"And now," Var'kan said, turning to the little group. "I am sure you must be hungry. I'll show you to your sleeping arrangements and see that you have food."

"Still know what food is, do you?" Olkhor said, directing a somewhat subdued scowl at the undead.

"Oh, yes," Var'kan said pleasantly. "Most of us do not eat, although a few of us still indulge for the pleasure of it on occasion. But we have not forgotten the needs of the living. We've had some time to prepare for your arrival. Ah, forgive me though; it will not be permitted for you to go armed in our village." The undead gestured and the group's weapons were swiftly confiscated, almost before they knew what was happening. A growl rumbled in Galmak's throat, but there wasn't much he could do under the circumstances.

The undead orc led them across the village's central open ground to a small hut somewhat apart from the rest of the village and set only a few dozen paces from the cliff wall. It was made of grey weathered pine like the rest of the village's buildings, but Galmak noticed that there were no windows on the two sides visible from their approach. It also had no door; instead the entrance was hung with a thick curtain of faded red cloth.

"I hope this will be adequate," Var'kan said with an apologetic smile. "It was a storehouse until quite recently. We have no dedicated guest quarters here as we so rarely get visitors." He laughed and held the curtain aside. Galmak's senses had already told him there was no nasty surprise waiting inside, but nevertheless he stepped into the hut warily. Just as he'd thought, there were no windows, rendering the inside almost black as a cave but for the light from the doorway. Var'kan flourished a hand and a crackling yellow light sprang up above his palm, illuminating the tiny space. It would be a close fit indeed for all four of them, Galmak thought ruefully.

"I assume you'll allow us to bring our bedrolls and packs in here?" the young orc asked.

"Of course," Var'kan replied. "Your things will be brought presently. In the meantime, please make yourselves comfortable." The undead left and let the curtain fall behind him.

"I hope that was a joke," Gheris growled in the sudden darkness. A gold ball blazed up and hovered above his hand. "Nice of them, not giving us a permanent light source in here."

Galmak grunted in agreement. It would pretty effectively drive them to spend most of their time outdoors where they could presumably be watched at all times.

"Maybe they'll give us a lamp if we ask for it," Hyara said doubtfully. "It wouldn't be very polite not to, and Var'kan seems concerned with maintaining that façade, at least."

"For now he does," Olkhor said. "Hate to see what'll happen when he decides it isn't useful anymore."

"Olkhor, do you recognize him? Or anyone else we've seen?" Galmak asked.

The old orc scowled fiercely at the floor and ran a hand through his grey hair. "I do," he said after a moment. Galmak caught his breath and waited for him to continue. "Var'kan was older than I was. I didn't know him personally, just knew him by reputation in the clan. Bit of a prominent figure, see. He was a shaman, then a warlock once Ner'zhul got his talons in everyone."

"And now he's decided to take a turn at necromancer," Gheris said grimly.

"I remember him being powerful, even back then. Looks like he's been pretty damn successful at everything he's tried," Olkhor growled. "Didn't know how right I was when I said they were all dead," he added in a mutter. He let out a gravelly sigh then, and shrugged. "Rest of 'em, I don't know. Might recognize names if I hear any. The faces are… different."

There was a sudden shout outside and the curtain rustled aside to reveal an undead with wild brown hair and black metal-studded leather armor.

"Your things," he said shortly and dumped an armload of packs inside the door. Another armload of bedrolls followed and then he straightened to stare between Galmak and Olkhor with narrowed eyes. "You are expected for a meal at Var'kan's home. I've been instructed to escort you there immediately."

"And my mate and her brother?" Galmak asked suspiciously.

The undead wrinkled his nose very slightly and nodded. "They are to come as well. They are to be extended every courtesy the orcs are," he said with the barest touch of spite.

They all trooped out the door after the undead and out into the sunlight. The morning was wearing on toward noon by now and Hyara was relieved to feel that the air had warmed considerably. Var'kan's house, like every other building in the little village, wasn't far, and soon the undead gave a shout followed by a knock on the door of a small but solidly built house near the west end of the village. Var'kan opened the door and ushered them inside with a smooth smile.

The front room was more spacious than the outside of the house suggested, and was well-appointed in a strange clash of orcish and human styles. Most of the furniture was simple and had obviously been made by orcish craftsmen, but the floor had been covered with thick rugs that would have looked at home in the palace in Stormwind. A few adorned the walls too, and the windows were draped in a thin red silk. Odd and unsettling as the surroundings might be though, the group's attention was immediately drawn to the small feast ranged on a table opposite the hearth. None of them had eaten since the day before and Hyara heard her stomach grumble embarrassingly at the sight of all that food.

"Please, don't mind me; tuck in." Var'kan gestured toward the table. "I would offer to taste it first myself so you know it's not poisoned," he chuckled, sending a look toward Gheris. "But alas, that would be pointless." The vindicator sniffed suspiciously, but his stomach wouldn't let him worry for long. The undead took a seat at the table but didn't touch the food, and instead watched them closely as they ate.

"Perhaps you would care to take the opportunity to ask some questions," he suggested genially.

"Well," Galmak said around a mouthful. "For a start, what are you doing up here?"

"Hmm, a very broad question, young brother." Var'kan leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his muscular chest. "We began up here more years ago, I suspect, than you have been alive. We were clever enough and quick enough to avoid the humans and their internment camps." A hint of cold steel entered his voice at the last and his eyes seemed to glow more intensely for a moment. "Most of us left some years later, at our peril as the humans were still searching for orcs, and joined with the Cult of the Damned. We were welcomed to that group in a rather limited manner, but it was a step up from fearing for our lives in hiding. We learned from them, we gleaned all the knowledge we needed to serve our own ends, and then we left to begin our new… unlives." He laughed in a soft rumble that prickled the skin on the back of Hyara's neck.

Galmak cocked an eyebrow in disbelief. "You left. The Scourge, Kel'Thuzad, the Lich King; they let you leave."

"We left." Var'kan grinned and his narrowed eyes glittered at the young orc across the table. "And if perhaps you meant what are we _now_ doing up here… well, we are doing many things. We have been quite busy in recent years and I hope that some of our activities will hold great interest for you. You may in time learn more about them."

"Mind telling us why exactly you wanted to turn yourselves into this?" Olkhor asked, his lips curling back in a slight snarl.

"Ah. Well, on one level it was at first our desire to serve the Scourge. But the lure of the thing itself was tremendous."

"What exactly do you mean by that?" Gheris asked.

Var'kan looked at him in surprise; whether it was feigned or real was hard to tell. "Why, immortality, of course."

Galmak snorted. "That's quite a price to pay for some extra years."

"Forgive me, young brother, but you really have no idea what sort of price we paid." Var'kan shook his head regretfully. "So smug and so sure in your youth. 'Some extra years,' you say? You have been alive two or three decades. Tell me, young brother, how long do draenei live? How many years will your mate be without you? Will she find comfort when you are gone?" His smile held an avid, malicious quality. Galmak found that he'd frozen and was staring at the undead.

"Draenei live only as long as the Light allows," Hyara said quietly, gazing steadily at Var'kan. "Galmak could find himself alone in the world tomorrow, if the Light wills it." _Light knows, he's come close enough times._

"That would be tragic indeed," Var'kan said, and now there was not a hint of a smile on his face.

Beneath the table, Galmak's hand found Hyara's and squeezed so hard it made her grit her teeth. She returned the squeeze and didn't let go.

"But I have a question for you now, young brother," Var'kan said, watching Galmak narrowly. "Why did you mistake me for an ancestor the first time we conversed in the dream?"

"Who else speaks in dreams?" Galmak said evasively.

"Who else indeed," Var'kan replied.

Across the room, the door opened smoothly and a woman entered with a large pack which she lowered to the floor. As she straightened, her glowing amber eyes traveled coolly across the group at the table. She was tall and wore deep blue robes sparsely embroidered in gold thread. Long dark hair, luxuriously thick with no trace of grey, hung loose down her back. Her skin too held that uncanny pallor beneath deep green. Her face was not old, but there were fine lines around her eyes and mouth. Hyara stared at her with a slight frown. Something odd about this woman nagged at her, but she couldn't place it.

"Ah, you've returned." Var'kan stood, beaming, and crossed the room to lay a hand on the woman's shoulder. "My friends, this is my mate, Teyagah. She is also of your clan, young brother. And my dear, these are –" But he stopped suddenly, looking mildly disconcerted for the first time they'd seen.

Galmak had risen and was staring open-mouthed at the woman. Hyara looked up at her husband in confusion and then stood too, examining Teyagah more closely. Suddenly something clicked into place and her breath caught in her throat.

Hyara whispered, "Love, she looks like –"

"My mother's mother was called Teyagah," Galmak said.

Var'kan's brows knit and he turned to look at his mate.

"And was your mother called Serlah, of the Thunderlord clan?" Teyagah asked. Galmak nodded, looking dumbstruck. "Then it seems you have found your grandmother," she said. One side of her mouth pulled upward around a small tusk as if she were trying to smile.

Galmak stood for a moment with a face that would have looked impassive as stone to most people, but Hyara knew him far too well not to see the hundred conflicted emotions that swirled in him. Finally he strode forward and bowed low.

"I am Galmak Bloodscry, son of Lurigk and Serlah of the Thunderlord clan. I came here seeking my blood and the honor that was lost. It is an unexpected honor to meet you, Grandmother," he said quietly.

Her eyes narrowed and she gazed at him in silence for a moment. "Tell me, grandson. Does my daughter still live?" she asked.

Galmak hesitated for a heartbeat. "She does, Grandmother, and my father as well."

"And did she never tell you of me?

"She told me much. She… told me how you died." Galmak was trying not to look at Var'kan, who seemed to be observing with keen interest. Var'kan was not his grandfather; he knew that for certain. How had his grandmother come to be here?

"How gratifying that she remembered that," Teyagah said. "I died trying to keep her and her lout of a mate from the camps."

"And then I and some of the others found her shortly thereafter," Var'kan smiled in satisfaction. "We were fortunate. I always knew she was powerful and I knew we would all benefit greatly by accepting her into our ranks. It was a shame we could not get your daughter too, my dear. She is also quite gifted, as I recall."

"But then I would have no grandson." Teyagah said in a flat voice.

"Ah, too true, too true," Var'kan laughed.

"And what are these?" Teyagah gestured toward the rest of the party.

"This is Olkhor, also of the Thunderlord clan," Var'kan answered, gesturing toward the old orc. Teyagah cocked her head and examined him briefly, and then her eyes slid to rest on Hyara and Gheris.

"And these two are your grandson's mate and her brother," Var'kan continued. He watched his mate closely with what Hyara thought looked like a slightly cruel smile.

Teyagah stood silently and her eyes bored first into Hyara's and then into Galmak's. Gheris she ignored altogether, barely deigning to look at him. Her knuckles paled where she gripped the back of a chair.

"This is your mate," she said at last, in a voice quiet and deadly. "Were you ever told, whelp, how your grandfather died? Did your stubborn cow of a mother never tell you that he died honorably, a true warrior, in battle against _those_?" she spat. "But not before he had painted his body blue with their blood and screamed in victory over the corpses of their children. And now you mate with one of them. You rut with one of them and no doubt you hope she will give you an abomination of a child, when instead you should do as your grandfather did, as I have done, and slice her open where she stands."

Galmak stood frozen for a moment with his eyes locked on his grandmother before he realized he was shaking with fury. The one rational corner that remained in his mind watched detachedly as the room seemed to turn red and the rest of him spiraled toward utter loss of control. Then that rational part of him roused itself in sudden alarm and mounted a last-ditch effort to keep him sane. He felt a hand squeezing his shoulder and it helped minimally to pull him back.

"Let it go," Olkhor's gruff voice whispered in his ear. Galmak took a few deep breaths and felt control slowly returning, although calm still seemed worlds away. He didn't trust himself to speak for several minutes.

The room had gone deathly silent. Only Olkhor had moved; Hyara, Gheris, and Var'kan seemed rooted in place. Galmak's vision was clearing and he saw that his grandmother was watching him with a small, satisfied smile.

"It seems you're very like your mother in other ways besides those brown eyes, whelp," she said.

"I take that as the highest honor," Galmak said in a hoarse rumble. "Thank you for the meal, Var'kan. My mate and I will be leaving now." He took extra care to make sure his grip was gentle as he steered Hyara toward the door.

"A pleasure," Var'kan said with a gleeful, snarling smile.

Hyara stumbled slightly as they stepped outside and Galmak caught her gently. Her legs were shaking and her hooves didn't seem to want to step properly. She took a deep breath of the cool air and shuddered. She felt Gheris's presence behind her as they walked back toward the tiny hut, but she had no desire to face him. If she'd only known what this trip would bring for him she never would have let her brother come. And Galmak had been shamed by his own grandmother whom he hadn't known still existed until moments before. Hyara stared dully at the dirt passing beneath her hooves. Galmak's grandparents had taken keen delight in slaughtering her people. They'd considered it an honor to murder children and drive her race to the brink of extinction. She couldn't reconcile that with the man she loved; her brain absolutely refused to process the thought that he was here to live his life because his forebears had been wildly successful at bringing death to her people.

She stumbled into the hut and somehow through a haze of tears she managed to lay out her bedroll where she collapsed in exhaustion after a hellish night and half-day.

Galmak examined her sleeping form for a moment in the faint light from the doorway. "I'm so sorry," he whispered and then let the curtain fall.

* * *

It was dark outside when Hyara awoke; she could see no light filtering in from around the edges of the curtain. The hut was surprisingly warm and she could hear Gheris and Olkhor breathing in sleep nearby. The other side of her little bedroll was empty. Quietly she rose and slipped outside the curtain. She tripped over a dark bulk and almost fell, but she reached out a hand and steadied herself on Galmak's shoulder.

"Hello, love." His voice rumbled softly in the darkness and she sunk down to sit beside him on the ground in front of the hut. She smiled slightly to see that Palla and Gink were both flopped at his other side. The Blue Child was high in the sky, a sharp, pale crescent above the dark pines. She could hear voices and all the sounds of wakefulness in the little village. The night air was chill and Hyara shivered. Galmak put an arm around her, pulling her close to his warmth, and she didn't resist. They sat in silence for several minutes and then slowly she allowed her head to droop to rest on his shoulder. Her tail twitched now and then, but other than that she was still.

"Whether you want to hear it or not, I love you," Galmak said at last.

Hyara leaned forward and rested her chin on her knees. "I always want to hear that," she said softly. "Now more than ever. I want to know it's still worth it to you, even at times like this, even though…" She swallowed. "Even though I may never be able to give you a child. Even though it seems like sometimes people can't do anything but tell us we shouldn't be together."

"Hyara. It's worth it to me. In fact, I don't give a fuck what anyone else says. Did you think…" He frowned and shook his head. "Did you think I get upset when people say things like that because part of me regrets being with you? Gods. I get upset because of the filth they're saying about you and… and because it reminds me how damned lucky I am that I somehow did something to deserve you."

"Deserve me?" she laughed tearfully. "I'm the one who… Galmak, I- I worry because what Var'kan said is true." She turned her face away and stared off into the village where lights shone in many of the windows. He remained silent and she continued sadly. "I'm your one chance. Why did you choose to waste it on me?"

Galmak sat silent and motionless for a minute. Then he reached a hand inside his shirt and drew out the little leather pouch he always kept there against his chest. It contained a few of the things most precious to him, things he'd collected over the years. Hyara had seen a few of the things and he'd told her the meaning of some. He pushed his fingers inside the pouch, slid out a little folded square of parchment, and handed it to her silently.

It was stained and the folds were well worn. She opened it carefully and saw that it was a note written in a firm, heavy hand with spiky black letters gashing across the paper.

_If you want to save your draenei…_

Hyara read it twice in disbelief before handing it back. Galmak took it and folded it carefully before tucking it back inside the pouch.

"I read that note and my life started again. I was more dead than these people here before that. I'm 'wasting' my chance on you because I can't conceive of any better possible chance if I lived ten more minutes or eternity. You're the only person I want, Hyara, and the rest of it doesn't matter. I thought I'd made that clear years ago, love."

"You did. I… I needed to hear it again." She smiled sheepishly through her tears. He gently turned her face up to him and kissed her tenderly. "I'm proud of you," she whispered. "I'm proud of who you are and how you've chosen to live your life."

He smiled and kissed her again. "My mate is proud of me. That's the best thing I could ever hope for. If it's just the two of us together for the rest of my life, I'll die a happy man. If someday the gods or the Light or fate sees fit to give us a child…" He trailed off and she sighed, burying her face against him and inhaling his familiar scent.

"If we never do, it won't be for lack of trying," Hyara whispered. He kissed her hard then and ran his hands down her back and around her sides. She let out a soft sigh that seemed to make his blood flame in sudden desire and he pulled back to drink her in with his eyes: her smooth horns glinting in the moonlight; her wide, beautiful eyes and soft blue lips that always smiled at him even in the worst of times. He needed her right now. Galmak growled and pushed her back on the ground, lowering himself down over her.

Hyara smiled up at him in the soft moonlight and rubbed a hoof slowly down the side of his leg before pulling him down to put his ear close to her mouth. "Not right here, love," she breathed, and then nipped his earlobe.

He grunted and promptly scooped her up to carry her around to the back of the tiny hut where its shadow stretched out to the nearby cliff face. Her eyes glowed softly in the darkness, never wavering from his face as he tugged off her light leather-and-cloth pants with eager fingers. Galmak growled low with pleasure, taking her in with eyes that could see her even in the shadows. He cupped a huge hand possessively over her womanhood, relishing her scent and the feel of her wet arousal beneath his fingers. 

Hyara wriggled slightly beneath his hand, making his fingers brush over her, and she moaned with desire. He slid a thick finger gently inside her and watched with primal pride and lust as her eyes fluttered closed and her lips parted in a soft gasp. Her tail waved and brushed slowly across the ground in an indication of the warm pleasure she felt rising. She reached out to fumble at the front of his pants and Galmak felt any desire to maintain control leave him. He wanted her now and he wanted to take her hard.

Hyara's hunter senses brought to her the subtle shift in his scent and it drove her instantly into lust. She helped him as he tore frantically at his pants and then pulled him down to crush her into the ground with his weight.

"Yes," she whispered in response to his unvoiced desire, and he growled low and dangerous like an animal. He drew slightly away from her briefly and then with a sudden thrust that crushed the breath out of her he drove hard inside her. Hyara squealed, not caring to silence herself, and then panted breathlessly with each hard thrust. She felt her body tensing and rising toward climax, utterly lost in the feel of the man she loved. Galmak drove deep once more and then suddenly he wrapped his long arms around her and picked her up. She hooked her hooves together loosely around his waist and he pressed her back against the wall of the hut.

"I'd like to howl loud enough to bring the mountain down," Galmak whispered with a wicked grin, pausing to let his eyes rove over her beloved face.

In response she squirmed invitingly on him and squeezed him in her thighs. He growled harshly and threw all control to the winds, flattening her against the wall and pounding hard and fast into her. Her horns knocked softly against the wood and she clutched at him in ecstasy, scraping her nails across his back. Galmak let out another growl that turned into a snarl as his body finally exploded in pleasure deep within her. Hyara felt him come and it pushed her over the edge. Her tail stiffened and then shuddered along with the rest of her body as her own release overtook her in a great surge that left her limp in his arms.

"Oh, gods," she sighed in satisfaction. Galmak smiled at her with pride and love as he pulled her away from the wall and lowered her back to the ground. Hyara wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and planted soft kisses across his face.

Several minutes later they pulled the curtain carefully aside and stepped silently back into the hut to snatch a few more hours' sleep before dawn. All was quiet as they lay down, but then there was a muffled sigh in the darkness.

"Finally done, eh," Olkhor snorted. "Think he's about smothered himself by now."

Galmak peered across the little room and could just make out Gheris's bulky form huddled with a rolled blanket pressed firmly over his head. Galmak might have laughed if it had been anyone else, but he knew Hyara would be far from amused that her brother had heard them. She had sat back up and was pressing her hands over her face in mortification.

"Shit," she hissed slowly and rested her forehead on her knees. Galmak tried not to, but he ended up grinning. Olkhor laughed.

"Must've been quite something, with all that moaning and knocking and howling and screaming," the old orc said. "Probably heard you in Hammerfall. Guess there's no need to get away from here now; they'll be sending out a search party to find the animals causing all the racket."

"Oh, shut up," came Gheris's muffled voice.

This time both the orcs laughed, driving Hyara to dive under a blanket and roll over with her back to the rest of the room. Galmak joined her, grinning in the darkness, and kissed her forehead.

"He'll get over it, love," he whispered.

"You don't understand. Ugh. We were so careful in the Barrens… We never should have…"

"We never should have, huh?"

She heard the laughter in his voice and couldn't suppress a snort. "Well, alright, I'm very glad we did, but…"

"Don't do that ever again," Gheris said from across the room. "What happened to at least pretending to go a discreet distance away, eh?"

Galmak grunted in surprise. "Well, we were on the other side of a wall…"

"Yes, and using it, I gather."

"I'm sorry, Gheris," Hyara said in a small voice.

"No need to be sorry," he said wryly. "Just spare me next time, will you?"

"Alright," Hyara said meekly and this time they all shared a laugh.

* * *


	10. Sacrifices Made

* * *

Day came all too soon and reawakened them to their entrapment in the village. Palla and Gink had nosed out the location of the group's mounts in the stables, but the animals were locked away and guarded. It would be impossible for the group to leave without them. And then there was the inconvenient fact that the village never slept, making even a nighttime getaway difficult. It was becoming uncomfortably obvious that they were wholly dependent on the undead's hospitality and continued goodwill.

It hadn't even been a week since their arrival, but their edginess was palpable. Galmak found his mind running in circles with frustrating questions: why had the ancestors given him a gift that would lead him and people he cared about into danger? What did these undead want with them? Why hadn't the undead revealed their intentions yet? These same questions were clearly bothering the others, and it was beginning to tell on them. Gheris especially seemed miserable living in a village full of undead; it strained his cheerful humor and made him seem pale and wan compared to his usual self. Hyara was concerned, but he always shrugged it off. She was glad at least that he was allowed to leave the village for walks through the woods to escape the constant feeling of undead surrounding him. Hyara, as a hunter, could feel them too, but she couldn't comprehend how much worse it must be for someone with a paladin's sensitivities.

Var'kan insisted that they continue to take one meal a day at his hut, during which time he would encourage them to talk about themselves and events in Azeroth and Outland. The group always answered as shortly and vaguely as they could, but the undead seemed mostly amused by their evasiveness. Teyagah was always there but she usually remained silent, often watching her grandson with narrowed eyes and stony face. Galmak ignored her as best he was able and she never showed any indication of wishing to speak to him again after that first day. She practically refused to even acknowledge Hyara's and Gheris's existence now, for which Galmak was glad.

At Gheris's suggestion, they passed some of their time playing at dice as they had on the ship. Hyara had at first been suspicious that her brother had designs on every piece of gold she and Galmak possessed, but it turned out that Olkhor was actually able to give the vindicator a run for his money and the games were much more entertaining for it.

"Where did you learn to play like this, Olkhor?" Gheris asked after coming out the worse on a particularly risky wager.

"Actually, I learned on my one other trip to Azeroth. 'Bout the only thing I did like about this damn world last time," he said.

"Well, you seem to have taken it to heart," Gheris said dryly before winning back half his losses. He glanced up at the sun and frowned off toward the forest. Hyara noticed his look and gave his arm a squeeze.

"We're going to get away, Gheris," she said. "It's just a good thing they haven't done anything yet; they haven't tried to hurt us."

"It's a good thing indeed," Galmak growled. "So far they've kept to their word and been honorable. Have you had any luck getting near the mounts, Olkhor?"

The old orc scowled down as he tossed the dice. "They've got guards there with orders to keep us away. Not to mention the damned locks. But they'll have to let us know what this is all about soon. I'm just worried they're softening us up for something first, making us sit around on our asses like this for days."

"I'm still hoping they're only curious," Galmak said grimly, knowing that couldn't possibly be the explanation no matter how hard he wished it. These undead were feeding them well, giving them a place to stay, and making it quite obvious that they were nothing more than well-treated prisoners. When would Var'kan make his move and what would it be? And then there was Galmak's own grandmother… He scowled almost as furiously as Olkhor. Hyara sighed and squeezed his hand sympathetically, ever attuned to his thoughts.

"Well, we need to get away before they get any more curious," Gheris muttered.

"Not the adventure you bargained for, huh?" Olkhor said derisively.

"It's an adventure alright. Maybe I'll write a book about one paladin's life amongst undeath and end up as famous as Brann Bronzebeard," the vindicator answered lightly. "But speaking of that, I'm going to take a walk." He stood and started off toward the forest.

"Hey, you haven't had your turn yet, blue-skin. Don't want a chance to win it all back?" Olkhor grinned.

"Keep it," Gheris called over his shoulder. "Buy me a drink when we get out of this."

* * *

"How are you feeling?" Hyara asked Gheris a few days later as they sat together in the afternoon sun in front of the hut. She knew she had to be annoying him by now but she couldn't stop herself from asking.

"I'm fine," he replied with a smile. "Of course, I suspect the lot of us could use a good stiff drink, but I don't suppose it makes much sense for them to have anything here. Not much fun in drinking when you're dead, I guess."

Hyara smiled and patted his arm, admiring his courage. His dark skin looked a bit paler than usual and he seemed so tired. Gheris had always been her anchor all her life and it scared her to see him like this.

"Anyway, I'm going into the forest for a bit," he sighed and stood. "I'll be back soon; I won't go far. Be good," he said with a wink and trotted away toward the tree line beyond the village.

Hyara frowned sadly, watching him go. His tail had lost its familiar jaunty swing lately and instead drooped tiredly. She glanced toward the hut; she could hear Galmak and Olkhor talking inside. They'd been going through the group's remaining provisions and organizing them, trying to determine how many days' worth of food they had left in case by some miracle they had their chance to escape. Gink was lazing nearby in the shade of the hut and Hyara stood and nudged him silently. Her cat rose with a yawn and followed his mistress.

_I want to see where he goes_, she said in reply to Gink's unspoken question.

_Why's that?_

She frowned, uncertain exactly why, and merely shrugged mentally. Gheris always went out alone and she supposed she was worried one day he might run into something he couldn't handle in this tired, weakened state. She glanced a bit guiltily at the hut again, but she wasn't really going alone; she'd catch up with her brother and they could walk together.

Gheris was nowhere in sight as they stepped into the cool shade of the pines, but Hyara had no trouble seeing which direction he'd gone: his heavy hooves left clear tracks across the dirt and pine needles. She moved quietly but swiftly by instinct, and before long she could see her brother ahead as he stopped in the shade of a huge pine near a boulder jutting from the forest floor. Hyara had drawn breath to call to him but she stopped in shock and reflexively darted behind the thick trunk of a pine. She crouched and peered wide-eyed through the drooping needles.

Var'kan was approaching from Gheris's back, accompanied by four other undead. Her brother stood motionless beside the boulder, staring up toward the treetops. He didn't turn, but he must be aware of the undead coming toward him. Var'kan walked around to face Gheris and only then did the vindicator let his glowing eyes slide downward to rest contemptuously on the undead. Hyara found she was chewing on a finger in fear, utterly confused about what to make of this. At a prod from his mistress, Gink melted away like a ghost.

_What are they saying?_

_Patience_, her cat thought back wryly. He didn't have a clear feel for how good the undead's senses were and he didn't want to risk discovery by moving too quickly.

After another moment that felt like an eternity, Gink spoke again, relaying the words from the tableau in front of her into her mind.

"Fuck you, Var'kan. You know I won't let that happen," Gheris said.

"Forgive me, but if you get yourself into that position, it doesn't seem that you'll have much of a say in it." Hyara could make out the grin on the undead's face even from where she was.

"I know you don't want me dead. Yet. I'm stronger and I can handle this a lot longer. Kill me and you've lost your long-term source and the cooperation you seem to want. You have to realize there are limits."

"Oh yes, but we haven't reached them. You will continue or I will be forced to seek an alternate source. Do not forget that one day I may grow weary of your posturing and your petty concerns and merely take all at once, regardless of the long-term implications. Now, must I enforce your cooperation or will you be reasonable?"

Gheris glared at him defiantly for a moment but then he seemed to deflate. He slumped back against the boulder and Hyara saw him yank up a sleeve, baring his right arm. Var'kan nodded in satisfaction and took Gheris's arm, muttering several words that Gink couldn't make out.

_I think he said something in Demonic_, her cat said.

Then in one swift motion, Var'kan snatched a dagger from his belt and slashed it across Gheris's upturned forearm. Hyara pressed her hands hard against her mouth, her nails digging into her cheeks. She wanted to run to her brother, wanted to send Gink in that very second to sink his teeth and claws into the undead. What had just happened? Her brother had allowed that horror of a creature to injure him?

But as she watched, it got worse. Var'kan muttered more words and held out a crystal flask to catch the blue blood spurting from the wound. He seemed to be chanting now as the blood flowed and Gheris laid his head back against the rock and closed his eyes. The vindicator was clearly having trouble staying on his hooves, and after a moment a few of Var'kan's escorts stepped forward to lower him to the ground. The flow of blood was beginning to lessen, but Var'kan continued chanting and suddenly blood spurted again in an unnaturally steady stream into the flask. A faint shadowy aura had shimmered into being around the undead and was now enclosing Gheris too.

At last it seemed Var'kan was finished. He rose and held the filled flask up to the light, examining it critically and swirling the azure contents against the sunlight. The sloshing blue liquid made Hyara's stomach rise queasily.

"This will do for now," the undead said with a nod and a glance at the vindicator lying weakly at his feet. "Return tomorrow, of course."

Two of the other undead hauled Gheris to his hooves and the draenei stumbled away through the trees, passing only several yards from where Hyara still crouched behind the pine. She remained still and silent, waiting for Var'kan to leave. She felt Gink returning and then he appeared at her side to press a supportive shoulder against her.

_Gink. What was that?_

He only growled low in reply. Gheris was for unknown reasons supplying Var'kan with blood; there was the explanation for his exhaustion lately. But why, and what was Var'kan using it for? Hyara peered around through the trees, no longer seeing the undead. She could feel him though; he and his escort seemed to be moving back the way they'd come. She stood carefully and began to retrace her path out of the forest.

A tingling sensation spread suddenly upward from her hooves, flowing into the rest of her body, and all in one panicked second she found she could no longer move. Her body collapsed bonelessly to the ground and she lay panting. Beside her, Gink had curled into a ball with his nose poking from beneath huge paws. He seemed to be asleep. Hyara head footsteps crackling on broken twigs and pine needles but her head was turned away and she could see nothing.

"This forest gives very poor hiding places, doesn't it?" Var'kan said pleasantly. He rolled her over, not ungently, and Hyara found she could move again. She considered planting a hoof squarely in his face, but his four goons hovered nearby and she suspected she wouldn't live to take out all of them. Instead she sat up and brushed a hand lightly over Gink's fur. He seemed unharmed and merely asleep. Hyara stood and tried to keep her face impassive and her gaze steady.

"What are you doing to my brother?" she demanded.

Var'kan sighed. "It seems we've now run into a bit of a problem, doesn't it? You see, you were never meant to know of this." He tapped a black-nailed finger against his sallow cheek and examined her speculatively. "But, as with most problems, this one has a solution."

"You'll kill me," she glared. "And then you can just forget about ever getting whatever it is you seem to want from Galmak." Did they actually want something from Galmak? They certainly seemed to. Hyara hoped to the Light they actually did, or she was probably dead. Her eyes flicked involuntarily toward the two undead standing at Var'kan's sides. She could feel two more standing close behind her.

"No, no, you misunderstand me. Quite excusable in this situation, I suppose," Var'kan chuckled. "I will kill your brother. If Galmak hears so much as a breath about this, Gheris will be dead within the hour; you can be sure of it."

Hyara stared at him in horror. "But- but what you're doing to him is killing him. Why are you doing it? If… if he dies, Galmak will –"

"Galmak will not be as upset as if you were to die. He will, of course, instantly know that we were the cause. But he will cooperate because it will be his only hope for protecting you."

"You can't kill my brother! What did he mean by 'long-term source'? You're going to kill him if you keep doing this to him." She knew that desperation was creeping into her voice. "Please… please, you can't keep doing this to him every day. It's terribly hard on him; we're all beginning to notice."

The undead smiled and crossed his arms. "Then perhaps you have another solution?"

Hyara swallowed. "Let me help. You can… can do whatever it is to me some days. Let me share the burden so it doesn't wear him out so terribly. He can't continue forever."

"Ah, hmm. But you do realize surely that I can't do that; you are too valuable." His grin widened evilly around his tusks. "We must use you wisely as you are a powerful tool over my poor young clansman."

"But I swear I won't tell him," Hyara said desperately. "You've already said what the consequences are for that. I just want to help my brother. Please, it's going to kill him. It won't be as hard on either of us if we share the burden."

Var'kan stood staring at her thoughtfully for a moment before finally nodding. "I suppose it will work. Perhaps we will even get a little more this way and not wear either of you down so quickly. Very well, then; we will begin today." He smiled wickedly.

"No, we won't," Hyara said as firmly as she could. "That is, only if you leave Gheris alone tomorrow."

"Oh yes, of course. He will come here but I will not meet him, and eventually he will leave. You have my word." The undead bowed mockingly.

Hyara nodded in reluctant agreement, but Var'kan was already signaling to the other undead. The two behind her stepped forward and grabbed her upper arms, then shoved her back against the bare trunk of a nearby pine. She struggled instinctively for a moment but the undead easily held her and she forced herself to breathe calmly and evenly. She'd agreed to this, she was doing it for Gheris, and she wasn't going to allow herself to be afraid.

One of the undead held her right arm up and turned her forearm outward, just as Gheris had done earlier. Hyara turned away as Var'kan drew a dagger and began murmuring in Demonic. The words seemed to twist into her like insects boring into her skin and they writhed like slick, cold shadows in her mind. Her vision dimmed slightly and she looked out at the forest as if through a grey veil. Strangely, the pain she was waiting for didn't come with the words and she felt only the sudden slash of the knife. She grit her teeth as the knife bit into her and out of the corner of her eye she saw Var'kan catch the sharp spurt of blood in an empty flask. As he continued the chant in a low voice, the same shadowy aura she'd seen earlier enclosed them both. The world reeled slightly as more blood drained from her.

Finally Var'kan's chanting stopped, the aura died, and color slowly returned to Hyara's vision. The undead who had been holding her released their grip and she slid down the tree trunk to the ground.

"Refreshing to have a strong subject again," Var'kan said conversationally as he examined the flask of blood. "Your brother began strong too, of course. Perhaps he will regain some strength now with your help." He smiled. "See that you recover quickly. The others will no doubt have discovered your absence by now and I suggest, for your brother's sake, that you have a plausible story for them."

Var'kan and the others disappeared through the forest behind her; she felt their presence receding. All at once Gink awoke with a snarl and bounded to her side. She stared into his green eyes almost without seeing him and he gently licked the wound on her arm.

_I'm alright now. But I don't know what to do, Gink._

He could feel what had happened and he let out a rumbling, worried whine. _They can't see you come from this direction. We should circle around through the trees to the cliff face._

Hyara raised a shaky hand to massage her forehead. Golden light and blue glyph glowed briefly around her as she closed the knife wound and then she pulled herself to her hooves using Gink and the tree trunk for support. She felt weakened by what had happened, but she suspected her body was responding more to the shock of everything than to the blood loss. No matter what, Galmak couldn't learn of this. Gheris's life, and probably hers and even possibly ultimately Galmak's and Olkhor's, depended on keeping them all in the dark. But how could she get away alone several days a week without raising suspicions, and how could she disguise it from Galmak if she began to lose strength as Gheris had? And what exactly did they have planned for Galmak? She would find out; she had to. This might even be her route to discovering Var'kan's plans. She felt a glimmer of hope at that thought.

* * *

"Rather die out there than stay here forever," Olkhor growled, stepping out of the hut in front of Galmak.

"Better to do neither, I'd say. We'll just have to find a way to start taking food that won't spoil when we have our meals at Var'kan's hut. If we eat that for breakfast and lunch instead of our own provisions, we'll have enough to last us long enough to get out of the mountains without stopping to hunt for food."

Galmak snuffed out the ball of flame flickering above his palm and blinked around in the sunlight outside. It was a clear, warm day and the sun was just beginning to look as though it were thinking of unfurling the first gold tendrils of sunset behind the mountains to the west. Gheris was lying on the grass near the hut, one arm draped over his eyes.

"You awake, Gheris?" Galmak said. The vindicator grunted and the end of his thick tail flopped once. "Where's Hyara?" Galmak frowned slightly, looking around.

Gheris lifted his arm and peered up at Galmak. "I thought she was inside with you. I left to take a short walk."

"She was never inside with us," Galmak said in some alarm. "I thought you were keeping an eye on her."

"I haven't been able to keep a proper eye on her since she was old enough to have her own bow," Gheris said a bit irritably. "Besides, she's a grown woman. And she probably just needed to go use a tree or something."

But he got up, looking worried, and walked a circle around the hut after Galmak. Hyara was nowhere in sight, either inside the village or in the trees.

"Shit," Galmak growled. "Keep looking for her. I'm going to find Var–"

A sudden peal of familiar laughter echoed off the cliff face and Hyara came sprinting out of the trees near the cliff, her hair streaming behind her in a wild tangle. Gink bounded out of the trees close at her hooves. She whooped and waved to the group as Palla darted toward them to sniff curiously at Gink.

"Where the hell were you?" Galmak asked, his concern making it come out sharper than he'd intended.

Hyara only grinned. "What do you mean? I wasn't gone long. Gink and I decided to go exploring a bit and…" She laughed again and pointed to her cat. Gink had stopped and was shaking himself vigorously, sending droplets spattering everywhere. He whined in annoyance and proceeded to shake each of his legs individually before flopping to his side on the grass to groom himself like a giant housecat.

"Whoa, what happened to him?" Gheris said with a grin. "I thought he didn't like water."

"We found a stream that comes over the cliff in a series of little waterfalls," Hyara explained. "Gink decided to find out firsthand how cold mountain streams are. He got a little absorbed in chasing something and launched himself right off a boulder, and… splash." She laughed again.

Gheris snorted. "I wish I could've seen that. That must've been one massive cat belly flop."

Gink paused in his grooming and cast the vindicator a malevolent look.

Galmak grinned but then he said sternly, "You shouldn't go out like that on your own, love. Remember what I said about wanting you to stay near me here?"

Hyara crossed her arms and a dangerous gleam sprang up in her eyes. "Nonsense. I had Gink with me and we didn't go far. It's been too long since we went out together anyway, and I intend to keep doing it now that I know where that stream is."

"It's too dangerous," Galmak growled. "What if one of these monsters found you out there on your own? And with no weapons too."

"I didn't see any signs that they go over there," Hyara glared. "It's perfectly fine. I'm not going to be their prisoner _and_ yours." Only she could read the hurt on his face and she winced inwardly, hating that she had to say that to him. But there was no other way; she must be allowed to get away on her own.

It was Gheris who came to her aid. "She'll be alright, Galmak," he said quietly. "I doubt very much they'll risk losing your goodwill by hurting your wife. They seem… satisfied to leave her alone for now."

"For now," the orc muttered. "Alright, fine. Not for long each day, though," he said curtly and stalked back into the hut.

* * *


	11. A Familiar Something

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks again to my reviewers!

* * *

Hyara didn't go into the forest every day with Gink. Instead, she tried to make her schedule appear relatively erratic because she was worried Gheris would begin to recognize that she was doing exactly what he was by disappearing alone on a regular basis. Her brother, however, didn't seem to think anything of it, and she guessed he must be secure in his belief that Var'kan wouldn't bother her as long as he continued to cooperate. Gheris's exhaustion seemed to lift a bit as the days continued and some of his usual high spirits returned, for which Hyara was tremendously relieved.

As for herself, she was uneasy and ashamed. The ritual bloodlettings weren't affecting her in the same way they affected Gheris, and she thought she had a pretty clear idea why. It wasn't only the blood loss that exhausted Gheris so badly; it was also whatever shadow magic Var'kan used to drain the blood. The Light had chosen her brother to do its work and his whole body rebelled against dark magic, but Hyara's body… what? Didn't mind it because of what she was? Would she have felt no adverse effects at all if not for the draining of her blood? It was an awful thought she didn't wish to dwell on.

Var'kan was beginning to notice as well. "Interesting; you have more strength than I suspected," he said one afternoon a week after Hyara had begun meeting with him. She said nothing, praying he'd put it down to her youth or perhaps her determination to help her brother.

Other than the clandestine meetings with Var'kan, the days continued with monotonous – and puzzling – normality. The group's apprehension, rather than lessening as nothing continued to happen, was growing stronger every day, and they feared more and more what the undead had in store for them.

It was an even day of the week, which in Hyara's mind had come to mean a blood day for her and an off-day for Gheris. He always seemed more cheerful on days when he didn't have to go into the forest, and right now he and Hyara were watching Olkhor show Galmak a few tricks of unarmed combat that he'd learned from fighting ogres in Blade's Edge. Hyara was anxious to learn something for herself also, as they were all weaponless here.

"Wouldn't believe how many times I've had my axe ripped right out of my hands fighting those things," the old orc was saying. "They think you're not dangerous if you're not holding a weapon. But that just gives me a chance to show 'em how stupid they are."

He made a quick jab toward Galmak's stomach, but the younger orc twisted away and aimed a kick that caught Olkhor in the leg and sent him staggering backward. Galmak followed up with a punch to Olkhor's jaw and the old orc went down heavily. He growled and stood again, wiping dark blood off his chin.

"Getting too old for this. You're too quick for me now I've taught you all my tricks."

"Can I try?" Hyara asked.

Olkhor raised his eyebrows and shot a look at Galmak. "You just want to take a swing at me, huh?" he chuckled.

"Maybe," she smiled. "But I could use some improvement too."

Galmak grunted and shook his head, but he shrugged at Hyara. "It's up to you," he said, then looked at Olkhor. "Hurt her and you'll be fighting me again for real."

"Sort of ties my hands then, doesn't it," Olkhor said sardonically, but he eyed her appraisingly as she stood up in front of him. "No, don't stand like that; I'll take you off your… hooves… easily."

Hyara braced herself with her hooves wider apart and raised her hands defensively. Olkhor approached and feinted a punch from one side, causing Hyara to dodge. She realized her mistake immediately, but it was too late; the orc caught her by a wrist, spun her around, and had her arm twisted behind her back in a flash.

"You hunters," he snorted. "Too used to stalking from a distance and only striking when you're good and ready. Take the fight right up to you and things even out a bit."

"Alright, you can let go now," Hyara said in a strained voice. Olkhor dropped her wrist and she backed away from him, stretching her arm ruefully. She felt alright most of the time these days, but the exertion was exposing some of the weakness brought on by the blood loss. "You're just pretty good, is all. I don't do so badly usually. I'm a lot better with an axe," she added a bit defensively.

Olkhor shrugged. "Then pretend you have an axe. Your hands are your axes, and you've got to hit me with 'em. Come on, blue-skin," he taunted.

She braced herself again, and this time she made the first move, rushing him and ducking beneath his fists to jam an elbow into his stomach. Olkhor "oofed" but he stuck out a foot and hooked her hooves out from under her. Hyara sat down hard on her tail, rolled to the side away from him, and sprang back up, feeling slightly dizzy.

"What useless sparring, when one spell would have both of you writhing on the ground in an instant," said a voice. Hyara whirled to see Teyagah standing near the front of the hut, arms crossed and eyebrows raised in scornful amusement. Galmak stood and walked to Hyara's side. He suppressed the instinctive growl that wanted to rumble in his throat.

"What do you want?" he grated.

"That's no way to talk to me, whelp," Teyagah said with a thin smile. "I came to check on the welfare of my grandson and his… mate," she said contemptuously. "You look well," she said to Hyara.

"I am," Hyara answered with a defiant glare.

"Your brother, however, doesn't look well," the undead said with satisfaction. "You find our company not to your liking, paladin?"

Gheris's gaze was unreadable. "It's in my blood not to like you."

She laughed, a deceptively pleasant and light sound. "One of many things in your blood, draenei. But your sister doesn't seem to have quite the same objections to us. She is holding up much better here."

"And you're going to continue to stay the hell away from her," Galmak said grimly.

"Oh yes, we will continue just as we are now, whelp," Teyagah smiled dangerously. "I would suggest you learn proper behavior toward your elders, though. I find your lack of respect tiresome. Did Serlah teach you no manners? Perhaps it was your worthless father who ruined you."

Galmak felt Hyara's nails digging into his palm. He took a deep breath and then matched his grandmother's smile. "You only show your ignorance. I give respect where it's due. My father has earned it; you haven't."

"He's right about that," Olkhor said. Hyara felt a sudden warmth for the old orc; nobody, not even an undead, could pull off a nasty grin as well as he could. "Being around his parents made me miss the days before the Legion, but you and your lot are reminding me what it felt like when things started to go to shit."

"You think I couldn't possibly remember you," Teyagah said. Olkhor's sneer froze and then melted away. "Oh yes," the undead continued. "You think after all this time, in so many people, I couldn't remember. You abandoned your clan; there's no forgetting that. Did you know that after you left your mate refused to speak your name ever again? She died with a blade in her belly and a curse on her lips for you." Teyagah's long scarlet robes rustled as she turned abruptly and stalked away through the village.

Olkhor's face, usually so expressive, was unreadable. "Well, come on!" he growled suddenly to Hyara. "You want to learn a thing or two, don't you? Get your damn tail back over here and let's go."

Hyara swallowed and couldn't look at him. "I… I don't think I want to," she protested weakly.

The old orc cursed and scuffed a foot savagely across the dirt. "Well, someone, then. You lot are hopeless without weapons. Need me to keep you alive if we run into a fight."

_It's nearly time_, Gink's thought came to her.

Hyara suppressed the urge to glance at the sun, since it was what Gheris often did on days when he had to go into the forest. She could tell from the shadows though that Gink was right; she ought to go a little early so she wouldn't be leaving at the same time as the day before yesterday. Inwardly she gave a small, weary sigh. This routine of deception was getting harder and harder to put up with.

"I'm going out with Gink for a while," she said to Galmak. "He's getting restless."

Galmak frowned and glanced toward where Teyagah had disappeared into the village, but Hyara waved a hand impatiently.

"Oh, you heard her, love. She won't come anywhere near me. We're just going to the stream like we always do."

"Alright," he said finally. "I suppose it's always been fine before. It just makes me uneasy that she showed up here suddenly after ignoring us for so long."

Hyara had to agree it was odd, but she couldn't worry about it right now; there'd be trouble if she missed her meeting with Var'kan. She kissed her husband, whistled to Gink, and set off for the forest.

_You're tired; it_ is _wearing you down_, Gink said as they wound their way through the pines. The sun was strong and the late-spring day was warm, but the breeze blew cool inside the forest. Hyara turned her face upward and scented the sharp, piney air.

_Yes_, she admitted_. But Gheris has been much better lately. I wish they'd leave him alone altogether; it's obvious it's not so hard on me_.

They didn't make for the stream, of course. As always, they headed instead for a spot further south, well away from the cliff. It was far enough from the stream that no one who might come looking for her would happen upon them, but also not close to the spot Gheris always went to. She stretched her senses ahead and could feel no undead. She was early, as planned, and she'd sit and wait for Var'kan.

She took her customary spot on a smooth fallen pine trunk and watched as Gink nosed his way across the ground nearby, following a squirrel's scent. Var'kan had stopped putting Gink to sleep for this once it became clear that her cat wouldn't cause trouble, and Gink always sat close at her side now, lending his comfort as the undead stole his mistress's blood.

Before much longer Hyara caught the now-familiar feel of the approaching undead. She sighed and took a few soothing breaths of piney air, bracing herself for the unpleasantness to come.

"Hello, Hyara," Var'kan said cordially behind her.

With a start she realized Gink was growling and she twisted around in alarm to see that Teyagah stood at Var'kan's side in addition to his usual escort. Var'kan was smiling and his fingers flicked absently at the empty flask in his hand. Alarm must have shown on Hyara's face because his grin widened and he rested a hand on Teyagah's arm.

"Do you know why I have brought my mate?" Var'kan asked. Hyara shook her head uneasily. Much to her discomfort, he seated himself beside her on the log.

"She is very skilled in the Shadow, as I believe I have mentioned," Var'kan continued. "Now, we have made a rather astonishing discovery. Your blood, you see, is different from your brother's."

Hyara suddenly felt as if the forest around her were spinning ever so slightly. Her blood was different. But that would mean… _Oh Light, no, please no_. Var'kan was watching her closely and she managed to blink at him in bewilderment.

"Have you any idea why that might be?" the undead asked. He was grinning like a raptor that had just spotted an injured animal.

"I don't know." Hyara tried to keep her voice merely puzzled-sounding, but it came out faint and wavering. She swallowed nervously. "I suppose there are different kinds of blood… My- my brother is older than I am, he's a man, he does the Light's work…" She was sounding desperate now and she trailed off. Var'kan must have a decent hypothesis already or why would he bother to bring Teyagah? Perhaps she had even been the one to discover it.

"Eredar blood has very strong magical infusions," Var'kan said. "That of course includes draenei blood. It's one reason your people are so gifted in so many schools of magic and it makes an excellent reagent for… certain things. And yet your blood is very unlike your brother's, unlike even any we saw on Draenor. Such a strong shadow affinity! It is truly astonishing. And quite familiar to us too."

"There is something," Teyagah said suddenly behind them. Hyara froze. The undead woman circled slowly around, her eyes never leaving the draenei. "I feel something in her." She smiled then, a feral, wicked smile. "And oh, yes, it is a familiar something indeed."

They were both staring at Hyara like wolves at a cornered rabbit. Gink's growl escalated into a snarl and he snapped his jaws at Var'kan, but the undead merely raised a hand as the big cat lunged at him and suddenly Gink collapsed into a ball, asleep. Hyara realized she'd stood as Var'kan was talking and now she was backing away toward the trees.

Var'kan sighed regretfully with a glance at Teyagah, and then Hyara felt tingling numbness paralyzing her before she thudded to the ground. Several of the other undead dragged her back and laid her at Var'kan's feet.

"Your mate will assist us or you will suffer a very unique fate," Var'kan said.

* * *


	12. Scrying

* * *

Galmak growled inwardly, watching Hyara leave for the forest. These days were a definite lesson in self-restraint for him. He felt Palla in the forest to the northwest, ghosting her silent way to sit quiet and unobserved near a certain place, a place Galmak wished he could go for himself. Hyara still thought her secret was safe, and so it was; what she didn't know, she couldn't accidentally reveal to Var'kan. Too many lives depended on everyone thinking he didn't know, and so he pretended he didn't. It was a horrible and nearly untenable position: he could allow Var'kan to hurt his wife in this insidious way, or he could force the undead's hand by confronting him and thus risk not only Hyara's life but Gheris's. For now he chose to let her continue, but as always he kept a silent watch through Palla. Galmak gave his wolf an affectionate mental nudge. He was infinitely grateful for her calm, sensitive nature and the cooling effect it always had on him; he didn't want to think about what could have happened if he'd raged straight off to Var'kan after learning about Hyara's secret rendezvous. But he vowed grimly that the day would come when he'd make Var'kan pay dearly for all the blood he'd been stealing.

He knew she wouldn't be gone long, but he could never sit still or concentrate on anything for long while she was gone, and Teyagah's visit today had made him more uneasy than ever. Palla had soon realized it was a bad idea to give him a blow-by-blow account of what occurred at these meetings; hearing about it in detail made him sick with anger and frustration. Instead, she now only reassured him that Hyara was alright under the circumstances and that nothing unusual was happening.

Galmak paced around to the front of the hut away from Olkhor and Gheris, scowling down at the ground and concentrating on Palla's calming sense.

"Alright, Olkhor, let's go," Galmak heard Gheris say behind him. He was a bit surprised the draenei had enough energy to face off against Olkhor in a sparring match. That was a good sign – at least what Hyara was doing seemed to be helping her brother.

"Galmak Bloodscry, you are to come with me."

He looked up in surprise to see an undead standing a dozen paces away. The man carried two curved daggers at his belt and had a shortsword strapped across his back. Not a very reassuring picture, Galmak decided.

"And why is that?" the hunter asked.

The undead smiled slightly. "Because that's what my daggers say, and it's what Var'kan's ordered."

"Hard to argue with that," he said dryly. Palla was beyond the range of communication with words at the moment, but all still seemed well with her and he sent a sense to her that he was going someplace not exactly by his own choice.

Galmak felt grim, apprehensive excitement rise in him as he followed the undead across the village. Would he finally learn what Var'kan and the others wanted with him? They were making for the cliff, it was obvious now. As they passed the last of the village's eastern-most buildings, Galmak could see a rocky projection in the side of the cliff that made a natural wall partially screening the dark opening of a cave. A pair of guards stepped aside to let them pass through the entrance.

From outside the cave had looked dark, but the undead led him around a bend and into a wide tunnel where torches flickered, lining each grey stone wall for several dozen yards. After that the tunnel widened further and they stepped into an immense chamber ablaze with light. Galmak looked around in amazement. The place was huge, and the entire room, roughly an oval, was lined with torches and candles at the walls. The effect was to give the chamber a bright but eerie yellow glow with flickering shadows leaping in odd directions. The light stretched upward about three times Galmak's height and beyond that the chamber's ceiling remained in blackness. The floor was empty of any sort of furnishings, smooth and of uncertain color in the yellow firelight, but in the center of the room was a dark oval set into the floor. Galmak frowned and an inexplicable chill passed over him suddenly; that thing looked like a small pool of some sort.

"Sit and wait here. Don't move from this spot," the undead escorting him said, then turned and moved a short distance back down the tunnel to stand on silent guard. Galmak sat down in the entrance to the chamber, presumably to wait for Var'kan. A sick feeling was rising in him the more he stared at that little pool. There was a slight movement of air in the cave that stirred the candle flames, and Galmak reached out to it. The air responded in a lazy breeze and he wafted it gently to the pool, then pulled it toward himself. What he smelled made revulsion and rage boil up in him.

After a fair amount of time had passed, footsteps sounded behind him on the stone. "I hope you are ready to get to work at last, young brother," said Var'kan.

Palla's sense was close again outside the cave, and she was clearly agitated. _They have Hyara._

"Already finished bleeding my mate dry, are you?" Galmak's voice echoed around the chamber in a dangerous rumble.

Var'kan grinned. "You mustn't think that's all her blood. It's her brother's as well. And I did try to dissuade her from it," he added with a mocking sigh. "But nevertheless, here it is and you will use it."

"Use it for what? And what if I don't?"

"You will soon learn for what, and you _will_ use it. I'm sure you know generally what will happen if you don't, young brother, but I can supply you with details if you wish. Your other clansman will die quickly but painfully. Your mate's brother we may allow to live a while yet as only a living body will continue to produce blood in the quantities we would like to have for the future. Your mate – whom we've found quite interesting, by the way – we will keep around; she will also be useful to us. But take no comfort from that – her life will be highly unpleasant. And as for yourself… Well. I'm sure I don't need to continue. You will cooperate." Var'kan's deep laughter reverberated off stone and seemed to stir the air. "There's really no need to keep up the pleasantries now that we have most of what we want for the time being." He gestured toward the pool.

Galmak snarled and launched himself at Var'kan. His fist connected with a sharp crack on the undead's jaw and they both hit the stone floor hard. Galmak snatched one of the daggers off Var'kan's belt and plunged it deep into the creature's chest. The guard who had been standing just around the bend in the tunnel dashed over with a roar and hauled hard on Galmak's hair, yanking his head back and pressing a dagger to his throat. Galmak grabbed the guard's fist in an iron grip and squeezed. He heard the snap of breaking bones, but the knife edge at his throat didn't waver. Var'kan stood and looked down at the dagger hilt sticking out of his chest.

"Inconvenient," he said, and yanked the knife out of his chest. It left with a sickening sucking noise and black fluid oozed slowly from the hole. "You may release him," he nodded toward the guard. The dagger left a thin line of blood as it withdrew from Galmak's throat. "I would hesitate to reward you with undeath if it became necessary to kill you, young brother, and yet I think perhaps I would do it since you would perceive it not as a reward, but as a terrible punishment. You would do well to keep that in mind." Var'kan's eyes bored into him and Galmak stared back with hatred.

"But also," Var'kan continued, "there will be other consequences for disobedience. As I said, we have found your mate interesting. Far more interesting than we anticipated, in fact. You were our original aim, for reasons which will become clear, and you are still our primary concern. When we discovered the draenei you were bringing, that was an unexpected delight. And now, this final… benefit. Do you know what I'm talking about, young brother? I find it difficult to believe she could have kept this from you."

"I don't know what you mean," Galmak said stonily. "Whatever you think, I'm sure it's complete bullshit."

Var'kan gestured to the guard, who disappeared once again around the corner in the tunnel. The command to his muscles to move in another attack was just forming in Galmak's mind when a sudden flash of shadowy energy burst through the air from the undead's hands and hit the orc full in the chest. The bolt blasted Galmak off his feet and slammed him into the wall of the tunnel several yards away. He lay stunned as Var'kan smiled apologetically and shook his head.

"I won't be taken by surprise again, young brother. Control your temper or you will join us in undeath. And your mate… "

Galmak's heart lurched as he heard the echoing clop of hooves coming from the tunnel entrance. Teyagah rounded the corner with one of Hyara's horns gripped firmly in one hand. Hyara saw Galmak lying on the floor and she tried to wrench herself away from the undead's grip, but Teyagah only laughed and sent a shadowy mist toward the draenei. Hyara crumpled to the ground and lay writhing slowly and silently in pain.

"Stop," Galmak said hoarsely to Teyagah as he pushed himself up from the ground. He looked desperately at Var'kan. "Make her stop doing that. Please."

Var'kan raised his eyebrows and then shrugged at his mate. Teyagah sniffed disdainfully at the draenei on the cave floor, but she flicked a hand and Hyara lay still as the pain receded. Var'kan then waved a hand inward toward the center of the chamber as several more guards appeared and hauled Galmak into the room. They dumped him unceremoniously before the pool and then dragged Hyara to one wall, where they tied her hands.

"Now," the undead said, pacing over to stand beside Galmak at the pool's edge. "You have demonstrated that you possess a certain ability, one for which we have been searching for many years. You will enter your dream state and you will search. If you find anything at all, you will tell us. And you _will_ tell us, because finding something will be your only hope for keeping yourself and your mate alive."

The undead began circling the pool, stooping to lay down small grey objects at intervals as he went. They were flat and smooth, like river-washed pebbles.

"As I understand it, the process must be a slow one; it took you weeks to reach us in your dream state. That is where the pool comes in," he continued. "It and these runes will help you channel your magic and should help to speed up the process of your scrying."

As Var'kan spoke, Galmak felt a strangeness seeping into the air around him. It was familiar somehow and comforting, like a memory of sun on a stormy day. The air seemed charged and he felt his skin prickling. He looked up at Var'kan, wondering if the undead could sense this odd feeling too, but Var'kan seemed oblivious to it. Across the room Teyagah was watching him intently, but he paid her no attention. Hyara sat on the floor near his grandmother, gazing at him sorrowfully. Galmak met her eyes and suddenly he remembered the feeling and he knew what he needed to do next. He smiled at his wife, then extended a palm and placed it lightly on the surface of the pool.

Var'kan paused motionless in the act of placing a rune; the candle flames guttered one last time before freezing in brilliant orange droplets. Hyara's eyes glowed at him, an unwavering silver-blue in her frozen face.

"Our last son," the ancestor said sadly from the other side of the pool. "You've found what you sought, Galmak Bloodscry."

"I've found no honor here, nothing I want to claim as my heritage," he said hoarsely.

"You have found honor elsewhere," she replied. "And helped to recover some that was lost."

"And what now?" he demanded. "I don't know what to do. I'll give my life to get my mate and the rest of them out of here."

The ancestor smiled and there was pride in her eyes. "You will do what must be done, no matter how hard it seems. Sometimes what seems wrong can be right if done for the right reasons. You must prepare for the time when the elements will leave you, Galmak."

"What?" he barked, his voice harsh from shock. "I don't understand, ancestor. Is the path of the shaman not mine, after all? You said yourself I have the gift, why…"

Her image was beginning to fade and he heard her give a breathy sigh. "You will know," her voice said faintly. Candle flames jumped suddenly in a wild dance after the motionless calm and Var'kan stood at Galmak's side, blinking down with narrowed amber eyes.

"You appeared to be in a trance, young brother," he said. "Tell me what you saw."

Galmak furrowed his brow in what he hoped looked like genuine frustration. "I saw nothing but that damned place with the whispers again, the place I talked to you. But you're right; this does seem to help me reach it more easily. Maybe with some time…"

The undead crouched on his haunches and fastened his disconcerting eyes on Galmak's. "If you lie to me, I will know, and your mate will suffer. You will have _some_ time, as you said, but our patience is not unlimited."

_You obviously don't know_, Galmak thought snidely. And a good thing too. So he had some time, did he? Well, he would use that time and he would give them just enough to make them think he was trying. And somehow… somehow they'd get out of here. He looked down at his palm, coated in slick, dripping blue. He might have Hyara's blood on his hands literally, but he wouldn't also have it on his hands figuratively. He would do what must be done, just as the ancestor had said, and somehow he would get her, Gheris, and Olkhor out of here. _And hopefully myself, if I can_, he added with a grim inward chuckle.

"Tell me what must happen," Var'kan said. "Do you always enter the dream state like that, in a waking trance?"

"No," Galmak answered. "It usually happens when I sleep. I can't force it, and I can't force any kind of communication. What am I looking for and why am I looking?" he added in a growl.

"If you can't force it, it won't help you to know that," Var'kan smiled smugly. "If you find it, you will know and you will tell me. For now you will try to reacquire the trance; tonight you will sleep in the pool."

"In? Sleep _in_ the pool?" Galmak said in outrage. "You must be out of your mind if you think I'm sleeping in a pool of my mate's blood."

"Sleeping in it surrounded by the runes will focus the magic, young brother. You will sleep in it," Var'kan replied.

"It would be my pleasure to add to that pool, whelp," Teyagah spat. She glared up at Var'kan and said, "I will grow impatient if he takes as long as it took him to find us. I am eager to test – "

"Yes, my dear," Var'kan interrupted smoothly. "Your chance will come, that I promise. You have earned that reward." He smiled at her and his eyes seemed to glitter with anticipation.

"I want your word, worthless as it is, that Hyara won't be harmed if I find what you want," Galmak snarled. He drew himself up menacingly in front of Var'kan, who only smiled maddeningly and flicked a hand. Galmak felt himself forced down to his knees and found that his legs wouldn't respond when he tried to push himself up.

"She will be unharmed – for the most part – as long as you cooperate. There is one decision which we will leave to her, however. Channeling through the pool and the runes will deplete the magic, and therefore the blood will need to be replenished daily. If she chooses, she may continue to share that task with her brother. It could even be that using more of her blood will speed up the process, as her blood has quite an affinity for our runes."

"Yes," Hyara said. "Leave Gheris alone. I'll take it all on for myself."

Var'kan laughed. "So eager to save your brother pain! We won't allow you to bear the burden alone, of course. I have no doubt that, despite your resistances, it would kill you all too soon. But very well; you may continue to share with your brother."

Galmak knew the whispering dreams wouldn't come unless he slept, but nevertheless he pretended to try to reacquire his trance for the next few hours. He recalled Var'kan's question to him on the day of their arrival here and it made him uneasy. Var'kan had suspected even then that Galmak had spoken to the ancestors. Was that what they wanted from him, or was it something else?

The truth was, though, that Galmak was glad for the time to sit quietly and think. His ancestor's words had left him confused and even a little angry. Why would the elements abandon him? What had he done, or would he do, to anger them? He'd been at first uncertain all those weeks ago when the ancestors had set him on the path to discovering his abilities as a shaman, but by now the feel of the elements had become familiar. He'd grown accustomed to calling on his abilities, even limited as he was with no training or guidance. He knew he could be powerful as a shaman; he could feel it within himself. And now the ancestors had told him to prepare to have it all snatched away again as quickly as he'd discovered it, and he had no idea why.

"You have made no progress, young brother," Var'kan said a few hours later, dipping a finger into the shallow pool. The blood remained undepleted.

"Like I said, I can't force it," Galmak growled. "If you want progress, you've got to let me do this my own way. I've got to be able to sleep at night. And how in hells is that going to happen if I'm lying in a pool of my mate's blood? You may not have slept in gods know how many years, but even you should be able to realize that's not very relaxing."

Var'kan laughed with what sounded like delight. "No, perhaps not. But you will try it tonight." He nodded firmly and disappeared back into the tunnel, leaving Galmak alone once again with Hyara, still sitting tied at one wall, and five burly undead guards bristling with weapons.

Hyara scowled and smacked a hoof against the ground. She was getting thoroughly sick of sitting with her hands tied above her tail. "Someone should reacquaint him with the fine art of bathing," she said irritably.

Galmak laughed in spite of it all. "Smells a bit ripe, doesn't he."

"Over-ripe, more like, which I suppose he is. I wonder if they even notice?" She smiled up nastily at a nearby guard.

A sudden echo of shouting and scuffling carried down the tunnel and they both turned to watch the entrance as the commotion drew nearer. Gheris suddenly burst out of the tunnel into the glare of the chamber. An undead was shoving him from behind and he fell and rolled a few paces across the floor. Olkhor followed closely, howling obscenities and kicking savagely at the guards.

"Hyara!" Gheris cried. He stumbled to his hooves and ran to her, only to be intercepted by the guards in the chamber. Var'kan strolled into the room and watched with amusement as the guards finally managed to wrestle Olkhor to the ground and tie him. Gheris threw off one of the guards with a roar and landed a wicked right hook on the other one, but the others closed in and kicked his hooves out from under him.

"You're lucky you're too useful to die yet," one of them spat.

"Just tie him and put him down near her," Var'kan said with a small smile. "You demanded to know where she is, Vindicator Gheris, and now you may join her in her discomfort. We will have need of you soon in any case." He turned on his heel and left.

There was silence for a moment as they blinked around at each other in the wake of the uproar. "Well," Gheris finally said. "It smells in here."

Hyara and Galmak looked at each other and laughed. "We were just discussing that before you dropped in," Galmak said.

Gheris craned his neck to look at the thing beside Galmak in the center of the room. "Holy Light… Is that what I think it is?" he asked in disgusted horror. Olkhor's eyes were also locked on the pool and the old orc looked slightly sick.

"Probably," Galmak said grimly. "Your blood and Hyara's. They want something from my dreams and they seem to think this'll help me enter my dream state."

"Gods, that's– Wait." He looked over at his sister. "You little rat," he glared.

Hyara glared back at him. "You can't think I'd stand around and let them kill you like that."

"I was doing it to keep them away from you."

"I know. And it was killing you. It doesn't affect me as badly and I wish they'd just leave you alone."

Gheris smiled at her affectionately and thumped his tail on the ground in the way that had always made her laugh as a child. "Thanks, little sister," he said quietly.

She smiled back and wished she could reach for his hand. "You're welcome, big brother."

"I don't see you trying very hard, whelp," one of the guards growled at Galmak.

"If you keep an eye on me, you'll see me trying my hardest to put a boot up your ass for as long as you keep us here," Olkhor snarled. "You'd better watch it."

The guard only laughed. "You should be glad your clan protects you. It's the only thing keeping you alive, old one. Now get back to it, whelp, or your mate will suffer."

Galmak sighed heavily and went back to staring at the glassy cobalt surface of the pool. He knew this was terribly pointless but he wasn't about to tell the undead that. Hesitantly, he reached out and touched a finger to one of the small grey runes. It was warm like a rock in the sunlight, but then suddenly the warmth faded rapidly and the rune grew cool as if it had been thrown into an icy pond. It warmed again, then cooled in the space of half a minute. Galmak had very little experience with runes of any sort, but most of the ones he'd seen glowed in some way. These didn't change their appearance at all, and he wondered if perhaps they would while he dreamed. He frowned at that thought; that would mean Var'kan would be able to tell when he dreamed, which could be most inconvenient.

_Galmak, Gink and I can't get in._

He jumped slightly at the suddenness of Palla's thought. _We'll, you're the only ones. All the rest of us are in here_, he thought back ruefully. _Do they still know you're out there?_

He sensed some amusement; she knew what he was getting at. _Of course we haven't tried to get ourselves caught. I mean that we can't get in without being noticed. I suppose they'd know we're still out here if they thought about it, but I don't think they really see us._

Galmak smiled to himself. Such a common mistake to forget about the hunter's pet_. Alright, well, don't get yourselves caught now. I don't know what you can do out there, but maybe we'll think of something. I haven't come up with much I can do in here without risking that they'll hurt Hyara, but I've at least bought us some time._

Palla gave him an affectionate encouraging nudge and then her sense drifted further away beyond words.

There was nothing to tell them the time of day inside the cave, but Galmak's time sense was telling him it must be evening by now. Before much longer Var'kan appeared once again with Teyagah, and food was brought in. Everyone was untied so they could eat and they all stood and stretched with relief. Hyara especially was stiff and sore after hours tied on the cave floor.

"Now, young brother," Var'kan said as they ate. "What progress have you made?"

"None," Galmak answered bluntly. "I told you it usually happens when I sleep. Ask me again in the morning. Don't be surprised if I come knocking into your head in the middle of the night by mistake, either."

Gheris snorted. Var'kan's yellow eyes glittered at Galmak and he smiled thinly. "You treat this rather glibly for something that determines your mate's well-being and the fate of these other two."

"I'm only being honest," the hunter growled. "Surely you have enough honor that you wouldn't hurt them if I'm doing my best."

"Honor is not at issue here, whelp. It is a simple situation: you will get us what we want, or your mate will suffer and the others will die," Teyagah said.

_She looks so much like Mother_. Galmak suddenly felt the grief he'd held carefully in check since discovering this woman's identity. So similar in looks, but gods, so different beneath the surface. Had she always been like this? Serlah had told him of some of the things her mother had done on Draenor, but she'd always spoken of it with grief as if her mother had been driven to do those things not by her own will. On Azeroth Teyagah had died protecting her daughter. Who was this woman really? Had undeath changed her so drastically, or had she truly always been unrepentant and evil?

Galmak wasn't given a choice about sleeping in the pool when the time came. Var'kan was there to see that he was stripped down to his skin. Galmak wasn't normally shy about that – most orcs weren't, within reason – but he also wasn't exactly used to having a small army of undead standing around watching him do it. But as he turned to step gingerly into the pool, Hyara caught his eye and winked. He grinned back at her, proud that even under the worst circumstances his mate could still admire him.

He grunted in disgust as he lay down on his back. The walls of the pool were low and the blood itself was very shallow, only about two fingers deep, but it didn't have to be any deeper to be thoroughly unpleasant nonetheless. Hyara's blood was an element of her scent and he could recognize that here along with Gheris's, but it didn't stop his stomach from wanting to turn over at the strength of the smell. The runes seemed to be tainting it somehow with something acrid and shadowy. It was slick, almost slimy, on his bare skin and unsettlingly warm. Probably also the work of the runes, he thought. They were giving off a very faint hum which seemed to be only audible here inside the pool, and much to Galmak's discomfort, he found the hum soothing. It reminded him a bit of Gink's purr, or a very distant sustained rumble of thunder…

And before he'd even realized he was drifting off, he found himself in the hated dream. The white fog surrounded him and the familiar whispers brushed just at the threshold of his hearing. Galmak turned a circle on the spot, searching carefully for a darker patch in the fog like the one that had appeared when he'd finally made contact with Var'kan.

"Hello?" he said quietly. The whispers wavered. What were they, anyway, he wondered. As near as Galmak could tell, Var'kan seemed to believe he had some kind of talent for communicating in dreams and visions, which perhaps he did, and his contacts always seemed to be with people of his own blood. _Or whatever it is that Var'kan has instead of blood now_, he added wryly. But then his dream self froze in sudden apprehension. Clan wasn't the only thing that the people in his dreams and visions shared. They were also all dead. Perhaps it was merely coincidence, but suddenly the whispers around him seemed even more sinister. Is that what Var'kan believed, that Galmak had a talent for communicating with the dead? It made the question of what Var'kan wanted him to find even more ominous.

But he had to find something. Whatever it was, it might be his only good roll of the dice in all this. As long as he had knowledge Var'kan needed, he held at least a little power. Galmak took a hesitant step forward into the fog. He'd never moved around much in the dream, but he wasn't getting anywhere tonight by standing still and perhaps he should try something different. He took a deep breath and figured he might as well try introducing himself.

"I am Galmak Bloodscry, a hunter and shaman of the Thunderlord clan," he said softly. "I'm seeking knowledge and I'm seeking help." He paused, wondering what had made him say that last part. What help could he find here? As far as he knew, he was seeking something Var'kan wanted, which probably wasn't likely to be very pleasant.

As his voice died away, he realized all was silent. His skin prickled. There was something expectant about the fog around him, as if it were listening. He resumed his walk and the low susurrations of many indistinguishable voices swelled up gradually again.

"Who's there?" he called, more as a test than because he was expecting an answer. Just as he'd thought, the whispers died again. They had always done that, but now the air definitely had a feel of expectancy in the silence. He shuddered, realizing that he might very well have an audience here. Well, alright then; he'd perform.

"I am Galmak Bloodscry," he said again, "son of Lurigk and Serlah of the Thunderlord clan, mated to Hyara, daughter of Kuraal and Ahdreen of the draenei people. I've been told to find something here or I must fear for my mate's life. If there's anyone here who can hear me who has honor, I ask for your help in a worthy cause." Maybe a little over the top, he thought, but he had a point to get across.

The silence stretched this time. He stood motionless, hardly daring to breathe even though it was a dream and he supposed he didn't have to. Then suddenly the fog swirled in front of him. He couldn't tell how far away and he couldn't even say what exactly he'd seen in that featureless white, but somehow he could tell he'd seen movement. He waited a moment with his heart pounding, but he saw nothing more.

"Hello?" he finally croaked hoarsely. Only the whispers answered him the rest of the night.

* * *


	13. Blood Fury

* * *

**A/N:** The chapter after this one will be the last of Bloodscry for now. And... the thing that comes directly after Bloodscry is done. (For those of you who don't already know, I finish all my stories before I even start posting them, just so I have better control over them from beginning to end. That's why updates sometimes come closely spaced; it depends on how impatient I am to get it all up here. I suppose that makes my cliffhangers even more evil because the whole story is just sitting there on my hard drive... waiting until I decide to hit the add chapter button. :D ) I'm still debating the whole new story/part II of Bloodscry thing. The way it's looking right now, this next story is going to have a part II of its own and I think that might actually make it fit better onto Bloodscry. I'll just have to see how it shapes up. Do y'all want to keep reading?

--

* * *

"And you saw and heard nothing," Var'kan said flatly.

"I told you the fog moved a little. That's never happened before except when you came." Galmak felt strangely drained, almost exhausted, for having just woken from a full night's sleep, even if he had spent all his time in that cursed dream.

The undead waved a hand dismissively. "How very uninformative. Could it be that you have neglected to mention anything?" He strolled to where Hyara sat on the floor at one wall and extended a hand above her head, pausing motionless and staring back at Galmak.

"That's all there was," Galmak said through gritted teeth. His lips pulled up around his tusks in a snarl and he considered charging Var'kan just to divert the undead's attention from Hyara.

"Very well then," Var'kan said in sudden unconcern. He smiled and rested his hand gently on Hyara's head. She shrank away and he withdrew his touch. "I'm sure you'll continue to do your best, young brother." The undead left with a faint swish of scarlet robes.

Galmak crossed the room to sink down in relief at Hyara's side. "Gods. This is not going to work," he said quietly in discouragement. "Even if I find something, he won't keep his word. He'll harm you and the others or– or my grandmother will," he spat.

"That's why you're not going to find something for a while," Hyara replied. She licked a finger and rubbed gently at a stray streak of blue blood on his neck. Var'kan had at least let Galmak bathe and change into fresh clothing after he woke.

"And then he'll harm you anyway until I do."

"But he won't kill me. I can take the risk of getting a little hurt in order to buy us more time until we can find a way out."

Galmak growled dangerously and was about to tell her what he thought of that, when Var'kan reappeared accompanied by several more guards.

"Time to replenish the pool," the undead said, and strode over to Gheris.

Gheris cursed fluently under his breath, but he rose and let himself be prodded into the center of the chamber. Galmak watched, aghast, as Var'kan murmured the usual incantations, the dagger flashed downward, and Gheris's blood drained into the pool to replenish the magic consumed during the previous night. So this was what he and Hyara had been enduring almost since their arrival in this cursed village. The vindicator collapsed heavily to the ground afterward.

Hyara rushed to her brother's side and let her meager holy magic close the wound in his arm. Gheris smiled at her weakly and patted her shoulder. "I'll be alright in a minute," he said.

Her eyes flashed angrily as she looked up at Var'kan, who was muttering and motioning runes in the air above the pool. "You took more than usual," she said.

The undead finished a complicated gesture and then sighed in insincere regret. "The magic was depleted more than I anticipated, Hyara. Be assured that next time I will allow you to supply the rest of what's needed to make up the difference." He smiled at her condescendingly, as if at a child. "But really, my dear, you ought to be glad you and your brother are here to lend your aid. Think how much longer we would have to keep your mate if we didn't have your blood to act as a very effective focus. I believe this must be fate," he laughed.

Galmak was a little surprised that Var'kan wasn't merely forcing him to sleep throughout the day as well as the night. He seemed to have that ability, given what he'd done to Gink a few times, unless of course it was only effective on animals. Not that Galmak was complaining; the dream the night before had left him exhausted and he was relieved that he seemed to gain strength as the day wore on. _Just in time for another dream to wear me out tonight_, he thought.

That night, Teyagah was there also to see him into the pool. She stood silently watching with an air of someone gloating over a victory not yet won but confidently anticipated. Galmak felt sick dread, noticing her eyes traveling all too often to Hyara. This time he would have something interesting to tell them, even if it was an outright lie.

"Hello," he called tiredly once the fog had wrapped around him. Gods, how he wished for a night of calm, blank, forgetful sleep after all that had been happening to them. "I'm back. Galmak Bloodscry again. And wishing I could figure out what in hells this is all about."

This time he sat down when the whispers resumed. There hadn't been much point in walking around last time; if whatever had stirred the fog last time wanted to talk to him, it could do it here as easily as anywhere else. Idly he wondered if he could sleep here. Wouldn't that be a nice thing to tell Var'kan: _Well, I didn't get much done because I decided to take a nap while I was sleeping_. He snorted with laughter.

_You must guard it._

Galmak sprang up and whirled around, his heart thudding. It had been a thought, not a voice, intruding suddenly and harshly. He could see nothing around him in the fog.

"What do you mean?" he said in a low voice. It wasn't the only question he wanted to ask, but instinct told him to take it slowly.

There was dead silence for a moment; not even the whispers stirred.

_Guard them_. There was a slight emphasis on the second word, as if the thing that spoke were correcting itself.

"Guard what? Do you mean my mate and the others?"

_No. Guard them, a gift._

"I don't understand. Who are you?" Galmak firmly held frustration out of his voice.

_Who? You know. You know who, Bloodscry_. Again, it seemed to be correcting itself, as if reacquainting itself with language long unused and forgotten. _You must_ –

Galmak woke with a snarl and blinked around in the low orange light – Var'kan always magically dimmed the torch and candle flames at night until they glowed weak and red like embers. The orc sat up, still groggy and more tired than ever, but now he saw what had woken him so suddenly. Hyara was collapsed on the floor at his side and her left arm had fallen limply over the edge of the pool until her fingers brushed his chest. Var'kan stood over her, chanting and siphoning blood from her other arm into the pool. His lambent eyes narrowed at Galmak in the darkness but he didn't break the flow of his incantations.

"Stop!" Galmak said harshly and knocked the undead's hands away from his wife. "Hyara." He brushed a soft curl away from her face and her eyes fluttered open. She grasped his hand weakly.

"The magic was depleting at quite an incredible rate, young brother," Var'kan said in a low voice. "You must have something to report."

Galmak snarled at him inarticulately and gathered Hyara into his arms, leaving a wet trail of blue as he carried her away from the pool. He lowered her carefully to the ground before hastily mopping off what blood he could and pulling on some clothes. He hesitated a brief second and then also pulled on his chestpiece. He was done with the pool tonight and he wanted to hear the reassuring clink of chain.

"And you nearly killed her, didn't you," said Teyagah's voice from the shadowed tunnel. She strode into the chamber and glared at her mate.

"It would take a great deal more to kill her, I think," Var'kan replied with a wide, wicked smile.

"I will not have her killed," his mate said dangerously.

"No. But weakened could be very advantageous, I think."

Teyagah gazed at him silently for a moment and then a hungry smile spread across her face. Var'kan returned the smile and nodded.

"Yes, my dear," he said. "I believe you've waited long enough."

Galmak had been straining to hear their conversation, but they were speaking so low he couldn't catch it. He was more concerned with Hyara right now.

"Love, are you awake?" he said softly and gently patted her cheek. Her eyes fluttered again and she took a deep breath.

"I'm awake," she said faintly. "He really took too much that time." Gold light flared around her hands briefly, brilliant in the dim chamber, and the simple spell seemed to revive her a bit.

"What's going on now?" Gheris said in a sleepy mumble nearby.

"All the usual shit," Galmak growled. "Gheris, do you have enough mana to–" He didn't get any further. Several sets of hands yanked him roughly off his feet and dragged him away from Hyara. He roared and thrashed, managing to throw off a few of the undead who held him, but then he heard Var'kan's deep laughter behind him and he thumped to the floor as his body suddenly went stiff and unresponsive. Galmak's eyes swiveled to see Gheris in the same position at his side, having barely had a chance to move from his bedroll. Across the room, Olkhor was bellowing and there was a sharp crunch as somebody acquired a broken nose. Var'kan laughed again and then the sounds of Olkhor's scuffling stopped, replaced by the most luridly descriptive swearing Galmak had ever heard. Part of his brain was terrifically impressed and filed it away for future reference.

Hyara had sat up dizzily as the undead dragged Galmak away. She could feel her strength slowly returning and she looked around desperately for anything to use as a weapon. The best she could come up with was a torch – her eyes lighted on one above her and she clawed her way shakily to her hooves using the wall for support. She ripped the torch from its bracket and turned to brandish it at Galmak's attackers, but it was already over. Galmak, Gheris, and Olkhor all lay paralyzed on the stone floor with Var'kan and several other undead keeping a close watch. The men were all three staring unfocused at the chamber's black ceiling, as if they weren't entirely conscious. Teyagah stood before Hyara now, smiling. The draenei watched in confusion as Teyagah sliced her razor-sharp nails across her own palm, opening a thin gash where thick dark fluid welled.

"Perhaps this won't work, or perhaps you won't survive it," the woman said. "But we are curious, and I am eager to try. It will be a thing of beauty if it does work: a filthy, blue-blooded draenei enslaved and bound to an orc."

There didn't seem to be anything else in the room now but Teyagah; Hyara's eyes were fixed wide in horror on the undead. _She can't. Surely she can't do that_. Her hands seemed to have gone numb and the torch slid from her fingers to land sputtering in a patch of blood on the floor. She surprised herself then and laughed. It was complete madness.

Teyagah laughed too, cruelly, and clamped a hand around Hyara's arm in an iron grip, pulling her closer. The draenei watched, unable to move, as black-green tendrils of magic curled lazily out of the undead's fingers. They wound their way slowly through the air and twined sinuously around Hyara's body, cradling her. She felt her mind begin to fuzz at the edges like ink on parchment sprinkled with water. Thoughts bled and ran together; her terror suddenly seemed not as knife-sharp as it had been, and she barely noticed the pain when Teyagah's nails bit into her forearm and reopened the wound so recently closed. Blood trickled down her arm to pool in Teyagah's cut palm and the undead raised her hand to smear it across Hyara's forehead. Everything felt heavy, even the air and light, and the draenei sank slowly to the ground.

Strange words wove through the air around her like the heavy drone of insects on a summer day. It was hot. Where was Galmak? Was he still off working with Gheris and Lurigk and Olkhor? Maybe Serlah would come out soon and keep her company.

Pain flared suddenly. No, Galmak was over there on the floor. This wasn't Serlah in front of her. _Who_… Air flooded into Hyara's lungs in a sudden gasp and left just as abruptly in a wail. She felt something drawing out inside her, stretching taut and thin and cold like a wire around her neck. Her mind struggled, flailing desperately against the constriction she felt growing in her entire body. The orcish face that swam in front of her shed its look of triumph and hardened into lines of cold determination. Hyara fought with the lonely desperation of a mouse caught in a river current, but she was weak and she felt her resistance slipping away. With a last choked sob, she slid under and something snapped tight inside her. Consciousness slowly returned and her mind brushed curiously, almost detachedly in her exhaustion, across this new feeling of something cold and hard as steel binding her. It didn't wrap her mind; no, it seemed to wrap something she could only describe as her essence, her being. It was a bond, and Teyagah held the other end, the end of power.

Teyagah laughed and her amber eyes held a triumphant gleam. "And so it did work; the demon in you is strong enough. Your life belongs to me now, draenei."

--

_Wake up, dammit. That's enough sleeping_.

_No_, another part of his mind said stubbornly. _I'm tired_.

But the rational part of him was winning; Galmak felt a strange urgency tugging at his mind and beginning to wake him. There was something he was supposed to be doing. Something that didn't include sleeping on the floor. Or being paralyzed…

His mind snapped awake as memory flooded back. His eyes, however, wouldn't open and his body wouldn't move. Firelight flickered redly through his closed lids. There was an awful choking sound somewhere close by that turned to a soft whimper. _Hyara!_ He roared inside his head, but his mouth wouldn't make the sound. Var'kan had him paralyzed and something was happening to Hyara. The tunnel echoed suddenly with snarling and roaring, followed by a few shouts and then a low whine of pain. If Gink had tried to get in and gotten caught, something must be badly wrong.

Galmak felt tingling rage building inside him, making his chest heave and his eyes blaze red beneath his lids. He struggled to calm himself, knowing it wouldn't do any good to lose his thoughts in fury now.

_Or maybe it would_, something said inside him. His thoughts flashed back to the centaur raid and the unbridled rage that had allowed him to call the elements to acts of violence he hadn't realized he could perform. Holding his orc's temper forever in tight control had become second nature to him over the years. It was a side of himself he'd always secretly feared and been ashamed of; a side of himself that had always reminded him too closely of the hate-filled, violent heritage he wished he could escape. And yet… _Sometimes what seems wrong can be right if done for the right reasons_, the ancestor had said. With a certain grim delight, Galmak allowed the rage to flood back in. There'd be no stopping it this time.

He searched for Palla's sense and sent her a silent command.

--

"Well done, my dear," Var'kan said in awe. His pallid face wore a wide smile and his eyes never left Hyara as he walked over slowly and stood examining her as if seeing her for the first time. She knelt on the floor panting, her body shaking. There was something inside her. It was cold and it _hurt_ and it stretched out and connected to Galmak's grandmother. It felt like a splinter in her consciousness; like a jagged piece of grit inside an oyster. She wished she could close her shell tight, form a pearl around it and spit it out. But the worst part was that it wasn't even wholly hers to wrap herself around; she shared it intimately with Teyagah.

"It did not come easily. She fought it, and there wasn't much to grasp. But I have her firmly and she'll never be free again," the woman said with satisfaction.

"And will she obey you?"

"That I will have to test, but she can be sure she'll suffer if she doesn't." She smiled and touched a finger to the tip of one of Hyara's horns.

But her smile faded abruptly and she exchanged a sharp, inquisitive look with her mate. Var'kan gestured to the guards and sent them dashing out of the chamber to find out what was going on.

Beneath their feet, the rock was growling low and deep, shaking with building rage.

--

Galmak let his mind soak downward into the rock below him. An angry grumble answered him and he realized the earth harbored animosity toward the beings who had been using this cave for tainted purposes. _You're not alone_, his mind chuckled grimly. _And I'll help you focus that anger_. He didn't know if the earth understood his words, but it understood his purpose and he felt a sudden eager growl shudder through the rock.

Then he heard Var'kan and Teyagah speaking and their words sent his mind skidding to a frozen halt. It couldn't be. She talked as though she'd… Hot, bright fury flared like a nova and the earth roared in triumph. Galmak brushed aside his paralysis as if it had never been and stood. Var'kan turned at that moment and his amber eyes met Galmak's blazing red eyes. There was a heartbeat where they stared at each other silently, Var'kan in mild surprise and Galmak in cold certainty that he was facing a creature who richly deserved final, irrevocable death. Then the undead raised a hand and black shadow shot outward in long strands, seeking to paralyze the young orc again.

The spell didn't even make it halfway across the chamber, though. Shards of rock bloomed upward from the cave floor with a deafening crack and the sudden fountain of whirling debris scattered the magic, sending it bouncing in shattered fragments off the chamber's ceiling. Var'kan roared in consternation and now Teyagah was beginning a spellcast too, but Galmak only smiled grimly. With a flick of his mind the flames lining the walls blazed up in a brilliant yellow ring and then roared inward to liquefy the rock that still swirled in a heavy cloud between him and the undead. Galmak used the screen of fire to sprint to Gheris and Olkhor. They lay helpless and still, but their eyes were wide and staring at the cloud of liquid fire whirling in the center of the room, barely held at bay by the shadowy shield now surrounding Var'kan and Teyagah. Without really even knowing what he did, Galmak reached out and nudged the air around the orc and the draenei until it flowed across them in just such a way… there. He yelled in elation as shadowy magic swept away with a faint howl of defeat and the two men sprang up.

"Galmak!" Teyagah screamed.

He spun around. His grandmother was backed against the wall beside Var'kan, her hands extended and a mad grin stretching across her face. Hyara stood in front of them outside their shield, between them and the spinning vortex of molten rock. Her face glistened with sweat and her eyes were unnaturally bright and wide, reflecting the orange maelstrom. She shuffled forward suddenly, hesitantly, as if fighting against a current, and then one arm slowly rose to extend toward the flames. She cocked her head to one side, as if in curiosity, and then plunged her arm into the fire.

Galmak was ready for it and the flames sucked away, making room for cooling air that rushed in to surround Hyara. She fell limply to the ground as Teyagah screamed in frustration and launched a shadow bolt that Galmak barely managed to leap away from. It crashed into the cave wall behind him, leaving a pit of blackened rock. He shoved at the fire, lifting it over Hyara's body crumpled on the ground, and sent it again toward the two undead against the cave wall. Var'kan was howling spellcast after spellcast as he struggled to hold the shield against the encroaching flames. Galmak felt a sudden dark bolt sear into his mind, attacking the power that held the whirling fire in place, but he flung it away and it cracked deafeningly against Var'kan's shield.

Teyagah was muttering wildly under her breath now; Galmak could see her lips moving and he feared what she might be about to try. He was beginning to feel the strain of holding the fiery vortex in a continuous assault on the undead while also holding it away from Hyara nearby. A beam of gold light lanced outward at his side and he turned a scrap of attention to see that Gheris was channeling something toward the undead. It struck the shadowy shield and hazed outward to surround it in a warm, crackling glow. Var'kan snarled in what might have been fear and his attention shifted to Gheris just enough to give Galmak a slight reprieve.

Then Galmak heard and felt what he'd been waiting for; water roared with a voice loud and strong as stone. He yelled in triumph. He'd been uncertain it would respond and divert its natural course so drastically.

He spared a moment for Palla's frantic, terror-filled sense_. Could you get to them?_

_Yes. It's all chaos out here. The stream is flooding the village_.

_You'll be safe. You and Gink wait at the stables_.

He felt that her confusion and fear were at least slightly assuaged. And now it was almost time. Galmak pushed one last time at the whirling fire and sent tongues of flame roaring against the shield, hemming the undead against the rocky wall and blocking their now-frantic spellcasts. He followed the fire, springing over to Hyara, and lifted her in his arms. Her face was damp with sweat and her eyelids fluttered weakly.

"Gheris! Olkhor!" Galmak roared over the thunder of grating rock and spinning lava. "Follow me!"

They lost no time sprinting after him as he made off down the tunnel. Hopefully Palla hadn't exaggerated and the stream was doing its work outside in the village; they would need chaos to reach the mounts and flee down the mountain. As they neared the mouth of the tunnel, something crashed through the buildings outside and Galmak reflexively braced himself, hugging Hyara's limp body tightly to his chest. He reached a steadying, guiding mind outward and the low wall of rushing water parted around them as it flooded into the tunnel, channeled into a torrent by the stone walls.

The group surged out of the flooding cave and into a clouded warm night. Cries and the roar of water echoed almost deafeningly off the cliff face behind them. The water wasn't deep, perhaps only three feet in the highest places, but it rushed with a terrible fury and had flooded most of the lower parts of the village. Several of the smaller buildings had been swept away to crash in splinters against the surrounding trees. Blue and green spellcasts flashed in the darkness, attesting to the undead's efforts to stave off the water.

"This way," Galmak growled as quietly as he could and still be heard over the rush of water. Silence and unobtrusiveness would be their greatest allies now in the confusion.

When they reached the stables, they found the doors unlocked and many empty stalls. Wolfriders were out in the night, presumably carrying people and valuables to higher ground. Galmak patted his faithful timber wolf affectionately as the group hastily saddled their mounts in silence. He hoisted Hyara onto his wolf's back, steadying her with a firm grip. She was still only half-conscious and tottered dangerously in the saddle. Galmak led his wolf outside with Hyara's horse trailing them and mounted up hastily so he could keep her from falling. Gheris and Olkhor were right behind and they all kicked their mounts to a run, streaking away into the dark pines.

Shouts and screams pierced the darkness in the village behind them, but the group couldn't tell if they'd been spotted or if it was still only the sounds of the undead combating the fury of the elements. Had Var'kan and Teyagah survived in that cave? Galmak couldn't be sure, but at the moment he didn't care. It hadn't been a matter of retribution, much as he'd longed for it; it had been a matter of getting them all out of there. If those two were dead because of it, so much the better; he didn't spare a thought of remorse for wishing his own grandmother dead at this moment. He squeezed Hyara tightly against his body and held her head gently by a horn against his shoulder to keep her limp neck from snapping around. The terror he felt for her kept his eyes glowing a faint red. He didn't understand the nature of what had been done to her and he hadn't the faintest idea if she would be alright.

Gheris's elekk trumpeted suddenly, startling him out of his grim thoughts. "What's wrong?" he called sharply to the draenei.

Gheris was hunched over the animal's head, rubbing its bristly trunk. "Nothing," he called back hoarsely. "He's happy to be away from there. I'm trying to shut him up."

Galmak grunted in affirmation. He was just as glad and would have trumpeted too if he'd been an elekk.

_Someone's realized. There are wolves heading into the forest behind us, _came Palla's warning.

He cursed and spread the bad news to Gheris and Olkhor. An idea struck him then, and he glanced up at the grey clouds covering the sky above the pine branches. He wasn't through with the elements tonight as long as they would answer him.

The sky growled in a long, deep rumble followed by several seconds of charged silence. Shouts drifted toward the group from behind them up the mountain. Galmak closed his eyes and let out a breath, at the same time withdrawing a thought like a cork pulled out of an upturned wine bottle. A jagged brilliant flash knifed down from the sky and slammed into the slope behind them, followed almost instantly by an earsplitting crack of thunder. In the deafness that followed they couldn't hear the screams, but Galmak's senses felt two undead blink out untraceably and the rest faltered in fear. There weren't very many after them, he could tell now; the confusion in the village must have kept them from forming much of a concerted effort to pursue their escaping prisoners. Another spear of lightning struck the mountain and another undead winked out. Gheris whooped in dour triumph, also feeling the decimation Galmak was wreaking on their pursuers.

But now Galmak felt exhaustion beginning to catch him after the wild high he'd been running on since waking in the pool. Gods, he was going to crash soon and crash hard. He directed one last plea to the elements and once again they obliged. Thunder roared again, the clouds flashed, and rain streamed out of the sky in a furious river. Galmak raised a hand and shouted, pointing exaggeratedly across the slope to the east and downward. Gheris and Olkhor saw the gesture even in the sheets of rain and understood to let him lead. They loped on in the new direction across the sodden ground. Behind them, the torrential water eddied in their mounts' prints, eroded them to indecipherable mud, and swept the mountain clean of their scent.

* * *

It was dawn by the time they reached the hogback. Galmak let out a breath of relief as he caught the first sight of the rocky ridge rearing up between the sun-gilded pines. Just as he'd hoped, they'd found it at one end. They could follow it down the mountain now on the other side, hopefully leaving the undead on this side of the wall as they took the most obvious path down the mountain in search of their quarry. Even if their pursuers eventually realized they'd been fooled, they'd have to travel all the way back up to this point to resume the chase on the other side of the ridge.

Hyara was asleep, a seemingly deep and natural sleep, for which Galmak was glad. His own body wanted very badly to drop like a stone off his wolf and not wake up for a week, but he'd managed to keep himself awake by worrying about nearly everything he could think of. Olkhor had been glaring like a devilsaur for hours now, probably keeping sleep at bay by being murderously angry at it, Galmak thought. Gheris looked haggard and haunted, but he sat tall in his saddle and turned his face up to the sun, murmuring a soft prayer to the Light. Their mounts, at least, still seemed energetic and glad to be back out and in the hands of their proper masters after so long in idleness. It was a good thing, too; they couldn't afford to call a halt for rest.

"Do you know what happened to her?" Gheris asked, keeping his tired eyes fixed blearily on the trees ahead.

"Yes," Galmak replied heavily. "At least, I think I do." It was the first time anyone had spoken in hours. The rain, the darkness, and the speed at which they'd been traveling had made conversation impossible, but the weather had calmed before dawn and they'd slowed their pace somewhat now that they were safely – they hoped – behind the ridge.

"Well?" Gheris clipped out and glanced briefly at his sister, as if he were afraid to look.

"That's best left for later, Gheris," Galmak said with a furtive jerk of the head toward Olkhor.

The draenei raised a hand to his eyes and Galmak looked away. Hyara still breathed peacefully in sleep. Galmak ran his fingers gently across her cheek and began to sing very softly into her ear.

* * *


	14. Blessing

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**A/N**: Last chapter, folks... at least for now. Thanks to my reviewers, and I hope y'all have enjoyed it!

--

* * *

Well, now it was hot again. There was something shining straight in her eyes and she tried to roll over and pull a pillow over her head. Her legs were stuck on something though and she seemed to have lost her pillow.

Hyara opened her eyes and closed them again right away; she'd looked straight into the sun. She was on Galmak's wolf for some reason. She rubbed a hand across her eyes and opened them again cautiously.

Galmak's big green hand appeared in front of her and pressed a waterskin into her hand. She gulped greedily. Gods, she was thirsty, and she hadn't even realized it. She twisted her head to look at him in confusion.

"Where in hells are we?" she asked hoarsely. She felt dazed. A peculiar ambient pain drifted in her body and she couldn't place where it came from. She took a deep, rattling breath, feeling as though something were choking her and she couldn't get enough air.

"We're getting close to Hammerfall," Galmak replied in his soft, rumbling voice. Hyara looked over to see Olkhor riding nearby, and Gheris staring at her. He looked worried, for some reason. Her brow furrowed and she tried to think back. She had no idea how they'd gotten here. What had happened… Oh, the cave. They'd been in the cave. Var'kan had woken her, wanting blood. Then… something about Teyagah.

_Teyagah_. All at once, everything crashed back in and she remembered. The air was too thick to breathe and she gasped. Something _was_ choking her. Something was pulling at her, like a leash around her neck, like claws dug into her flesh and trying to drag her back up the mountain.

_Gink, where are you?_

She felt him speeding toward her instantly, his presence getting stronger. _I'm here, Hyara_.

_What is this? What's happened to me?_ Something compelled her to ask him.

He didn't reply in words, but she could tell he could feel it too, through her. His sense flooded her with comfort and soothing calmness.

_Oh Gink, please tell me this isn't how it is for you._

He growled audibly nearby and she felt how sick at heart he was beneath the comfort he was trying to give her. _We have a bond of companionship and I could leave at any time if I chose. That's a bond of slavery._

She squeezed her eyes shut and her head drooped. There was no escaping this subtly painful tugging and wrenching sensation. It called to her unnaturally, contrary to every other part of her being, and wanted her to stop right now and go back up that mountain.

"Hyara," Galmak said quietly, but he stopped and didn't seem to want to continue.

"I know," she said quietly. "She enslaved me. It's alright. We're all still alive, aren't we?" She smiled and ignored the tears dripping into her lap.

Gheris stared over with his mouth hanging open in horror. "She _what_?" He locked eyes with Galmak and his voice rose to a roar. "You let that happen? You let that evil, filthy, loathsome bitch…" He ripped a dagger out of a sheath on his saddle and lashed out viciously at a branch as they passed.

"What could I have done?" Galmak rumbled in outrage. "She did it while we were all three out cold on the floor. It's only because of me we got out of there at all! If you think for one fucking second you can accuse me of standing around and _letting_ someone do that to my wife–"

"Well, she's my _sister_, and she's everything in the world to–"

"And what in all hells do you think she is to me! Nothing? You can't even comprehend what we've gone through–"

"_Will you two shut your fucking mouths!_" Olkhor roared. He gave them each a snarling glare that could have killed baby rabbits. "We might still have a tail back there. You want those undead bastards finding us again? We got away, and that's a lot fucking more than I ever thought we would."

"And I don't want to hear the two of you arguing," Hyara said, trying to summon a glare of her own. "If you're both so worried about me, don't make me listen to that." She choked back a sob. The last thing she wanted right now was for the two people she loved most in the world to be at odds.

Galmak shifted behind her; Gheris looked suddenly ashamed and mumbled something. Galmak extended a hand and the draenei took it, squeezing in a brief shake.

"Sorry, Galmak," Gheris said gruffly and the orc nodded.

They reached Hammerfall at last in the late afternoon, feeling nearly dead from exhaustion. As the town's reassuringly thick wooden walls loomed ahead of them, they finally let themselves believe they'd made it. No undead charged down from the mountain after them; the trail stayed empty and silent in the afternoon sun. They approached the gates, slid off their mounts, and immediately collapsed to the ground. But the guards had spotted them and were coming, and Galmak forced himself to get up and walk to meet them. Hyara sat dazedly on the ground with Gheris and Olkhor, listening to the row rising between Galmak and the guards. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but definitely most of it was menacing growling on Galmak's part and she marveled that he'd dredged up enough energy to put up an argument. They'd decided that one way or another they were all going to rest safely and comfortably behind a fortified wall tonight, and Hyara had every confidence that Galmak could make that happen.

Finally he trudged wearily back to the little group. "Alright, you're clear, Gheris. I told them you're with the Kanrethad. They didn't want to let two draenei in, but I told them I'd contact Thrall himself if they didn't. Gods, I hope they don't decide to call my bluff."

"Whatever. I'll gladly sit in a Horde prison if they'll just let me sleep."

* * *

Night was falling, stirring up a cool wind that carried the scent of pine down from the mountains. Galmak figured he ought to go back inside the inn and try to sleep, but he'd been sleeping for most of the past day and he was restless now. He'd had no more dreams since that last puzzling one in the cave, and his sleep since the escape had been deep and refreshing for a change.

Hyara was, blessedly, asleep again. It frightened him in a way because she wasn't often so weary, but her wakeful hours seemed full of a pain he could do nothing to ease. He hated to look over and see her sitting with her back pressed against the northern wall of the room, and then realize it and move suddenly to the southern wall… until she ended up back north without even being aware of responding to the unnatural pull. Whether Var'kan had survived the fire and flood in the cave, they couldn't know. But Teyagah had definitely survived, and Hyara had felt the proof every moment since.

"How is she?" came Gheris's quiet voice. Galmak turned and nodded as the draenei took a spot beside him on a log in front of one of Hammerfall's common campfires. Gheris had been attracting more hostile stares and unwanted attention here than Hyara ever did in a Horde settlement; Galmak guessed it was because the huge male draenei cut a much more imposing figure. Nevertheless, Gheris had been ignoring it all, avoiding contact with anyone when he could, and even going out of his way to be extra polite.

"She's sleeping," the orc answered. "I don't know what else to do but encourage it. She seems in pain when she's awake."

"She can't sleep for the rest of her life."

Galmak grunted. "Maybe when we get further away it'll get better. I just don't know, Gheris. I pray to every god there is my mother will know what to do about this."

They sat in silence for a moment, watching the sun disappear in a few last flares of orange to the west. The quiet of evening had descended on the village.

"I know you'll take care of her, Galmak, regardless of what happens," Gheris said quietly, staring into the fire. He smiled slightly then and glanced at the orc beside him. "If someday I have even half of what the two of you have together, I'll be an extraordinarily happy man."

"I _will_ take care of her, Gheris." Galmak's voice was a determined rumble, belying his turmoil and worry. "Don't doubt that I'd do absolutely anything for her, even if it meant my own life."

* * *

"Hyara?" Galmak could see her in the darkened cabin, sitting up in bed beside one of the little round windows with starlight gleaming faintly off her horns. He shut the door softly behind him and crossed the room.

She turned her head away from the window and smiled. "Are Gheris and Olkhor still up?" she asked softly.

"They're going to bed now too. I thought for sure you'd be asleep by now." He took a spot beside her and leaned against the ship's hull.

They'd rested three days, and then when there'd still been no sign of any pursuit by the undead, they'd made off for Faldir's Cove. Galmak guessed the undead must know when they'd lost and had turned back before coming within range of any patrols Hammerfall might have sent out to keep watch. And the Horde _had_ sent out patrols, but they'd found nothing. He didn't know what might happen in the long run, but he guessed it wouldn't be much unless the undead actually became a nuisance to the town. Hammerfall had its own more urgent problems to deal with, and as they'd never even been aware of an undead presence in the mountains in all these years, they weren't terribly concerned about sending out an expedition to stir up trouble where none had previously existed. Galmak supposed the most that would happen for quite some time would be a warning to travelers to avoid the more northern regions of the Aerie Peaks bordering the Hinterlands.

"Couldn't sleep," Hyara said with a yawn.

"You ought to try."

"I do try," she said, making him wince.

She turned back to the starlight on the open ocean and Galmak studied her face. She looked tired and troubled, as they all had since the escape. But more than that, she looked in pain. She denied it and claimed it wasn't exactly pain she felt, but whatever it was, it was close enough to pain that Galmak didn't think there could be much difference.

_My own mother's mother did this_. And now they were on their way back to the Barrens and he would have to tell his mother that Teyagah was… not quite alive, but still kicking nonetheless. He laid his head against his wife's shoulder and closed his eyes. If there was anyone who would know if there was anything to be done about this, it was his mother.

_Ancestors, if you can still hear me, if you haven't abandoned me as you say the elements will, please help my mate. Let there be something Mother can do._

* * *

It was sunset and the Barrens was gold and red and black. The wind blowing gently across the plains was carrying away the day's heat and bringing the coolness of falling night and the distant river. Across the dusty ground and short-cropped grass of the yard, Serlah and Lurigk's little round house glowed with warm yellow light. They were all sitting beneath the trees now around a low fire, with a meal just finished and a story just told.

Serlah's cheeks were wet with tears and she gripped her son's hand as if she'd never let go. Galmak was silent now, gazing into the fire. He'd let Olkhor tell the final part of the story, since Olkhor's version was all he wanted his parents to hear at the moment. The rest of it, what Hyara was, what Teyagah had done, Galmak would tell his mother soon.

"Guess you're not just a soft young Azeroth orc after all," Olkhor grunted into the silence that had fallen, and Galmak smiled grimly.

"There are times I wish I could be," he replied.

Olkhor glared and his eyes slid up from the fire to lock onto Galmak. "No, you don't. You're what's left of us now and you've got a clan name to continue, you and your mate. Guess I'm glad I stuck around all these years and lived to see my clan reclaim some of its honor. Maybe the ancestors knew what they were doing after all, speaking to you," he said gruffly. "Sorry I'm a bit of an asshole." The old orc shut his mouth with a snap and blinked, as if he'd just astonished himself.

He'd certainly astonished Galmak, but the young orc didn't show it. Instead, he held out a hand to Olkhor. "I'm glad to count you as a brother, clansman," he said quietly. Olkhor nodded and they gripped hands briefly.

Hyara lay with her head resting on her brother's knee, looking up at the sky as the first stars began to soak their way through the deepening blue. She steadfastly ignored the constant pull to move just a little closer, a little further east. Sometimes it receded somewhat; other times it was so strong she felt it might force her hooves to move unless she sat perfectly still with her eyes squeezed shut and her mind locked firmly on some other thought. She wondered if those were the times Teyagah thought of her and called to her. _Maybe she'll forget me in time. Maybe over the years it will get better_. Years… _Immortality_, Var'kan had said.

"Gheris," she said quietly. "Where will you go now?"

"Nowhere yet," he replied. "Not until I know…" He trailed off with a shake of his head.

"No, really," she said with a pained look. "Where will you go? I… I want to know that you're alright."

He chuckled and flicked a finger affectionately against one of her horns. "Hyara, I'm alright. I'm… well, life's too short, even for us. I'm going to Forest Song."

She smiled up at him. "What's her name?"

"Nayuula. And she's got a beautiful tail."

Hyara snorted and blushed all at once. She reached out to either side where Gink and Palla flanked her and gave them each a scratch behind the ears. Gink was snoring softly and didn't even twitch a muscle; Palla opened one eye and Hyara could swear the wolf gave her a smile before settling down again. She looked over and caught Galmak staring at her. He smiled, but she saw sadness in his face, and then he turned to Serlah.

"Mother," he said. "I'd like to talk to you alone."

Gheris heard him and he stood. "Come on, Olkhor. I believe I've got some gold to win back from you."

The old orc shook his head, muttering under his breath. "You can try, blue-skin." He gave Galmak a long, hard look and a clap on the shoulder, then followed as Gheris strode away toward the house.

Hyara looked at Galmak a little helplessly. She was unsure if he wanted her to stay, and she was unsure that she wanted to be there when he told them. But he reached over and caught her hand, tugging her to his side. She scooted back a little to rest against a tree, just beyond reach of the fire's brightest light. Lurigk rested a hand on his mate's shoulder and sent his son a questioning look.

"I can leave too, son, if that's what you're after. If your mother doesn't mind."

Galmak in turn looked over at Hyara. She sighed softly and looked away into the darkness.

"It doesn't matter. Gheris is right; family's my first line of defense."

Galmak spoke quietly, gazing most of the time into the fire. He told his parents what they'd learned from Velen and then, reluctantly and sadly, he spoke of what his grandmother had done in the cave. When he was finished, Serlah was silent for several moments. She didn't make a sound but she let her tears come freely, mourning all over again for the mother she'd lost years ago and now lost so horribly again, and for her son and his mate who'd found Teyagah, to their own grief. Lurigk and Galmak both knew to let her grieve in her own way and they too held their silence, waiting for her.

At last, Serlah stood to walk around the fire and then knelt beside Hyara, grasping her hands. The two women faced each other silently for a moment with tear-streaked faces, and once again Hyara felt she was being searched. Serlah finally nodded slightly and squeezed Hyara's hands.

"I feel it," she said. "It's a strong bond, for how little there is. She always was strong."

"Can you break it, Mother? Is there anything you can do?" Galmak's voice was eager and urgent, too full of hope, and Serlah closed her eyes.

"No, my son. I can't break the bond; only her death or the death of the de–… Hyara's death could do that. Hyara will always carry it with her now that it has been cast on her."

Hyara felt a chill of hopelessness run through her. At her side, Galmak's fist clenched around a pebble he'd been fiddling with.

"But," Serlah continued, and she opened her eyes to look at her son. "There may be a way to at least ease the pain of it, make it more bearable. The bond could be transferred, wrenched away by another warlock." She paused as if gathering her strength to say what came next. "I will take it on myself."

Galmak swallowed and looked away. He knew how hard that offer was for her to make. She'd sworn so many years ago, even before his birth, that she'd never let that side of herself come out again. It was a side of herself that had been bent on death and cruelty and she'd vowed that it had no place in her new life. She'd sworn she'd never again use her abilities as a warlock unless it were a matter of life or death for someone she loved.

"Is that what you want, Hyara?" Serlah asked quietly.

Hyara shivered involuntarily. "I… It would really make a difference?"

"Yes," Serlah nodded. "It would make a difference for the bond to be held by someone who means you no harm and doesn't seek to control you. It would be less painful, less of a… chain around your neck." She stood abruptly, turning away and resuming her seat at Lurigk's side.

Lurigk had kept his silence through it all, but now his voice rumbled in a sudden chuckle. They all looked at him in bemusement and he smiled.

"I think I ended up with the bravest family I could possibly get," he said. Serlah gave him a loving, grateful smile and squeezed his hand.

"If you're willing to offer that, I'll take it gratefully, Serlah," Hyara said.

The orc woman nodded sadly. "Then we'll do it tomorrow night. I will need tomorrow to prepare myself."

* * *

Galmak couldn't sleep. Too much on his mind, too many fears, too many worries kept him staring up at the stars long after everyone else had managed to close their eyes for the night. Even Hyara slept and he was relieved for that; if it was a trade-off, he'd gladly be the sleepless one tonight. But he wasn't only sleepless, he was restless too, and after a while he gave in and gently lifted Hyara's head off his arm. Palla opened a gold eye as he got up and she followed him into the darkness.

The night was cooler than usual, especially away from the fire, and a stiff wind was sending a few tattered clouds wisping across the sky. On impulse Galmak closed his eyes and walked across the dark plain by feel, allowing the air and the earth to guide him. He marveled at how easily they came to him now, how well he could feel the subtle currents and forces circulating in restless harmonies and disharmonies. That wild, exhilarating, terror-filled escape in the Aerie Peaks seemed to have awakened something in him and swept away his last reservations about his gift.

He opened his eyes and looked around. The elements had guided his steps far from the glow of the campfire and he was alone with Palla. She nuzzled his leg and he reached down to scratch her head affectionately. He took a deep breath and caught the sweet, musky scent of the earthroot that grew in abundance on the nearby ridge. The wind felt alive and mischievous around him. How had he never felt it like this, all the years before, as a living force with a spirit of its own? It seemed so obvious now, so integral to seeing the world as it ought to be seen. It all felt so much a part of him now.

_It's all going to leave me_. She had said it and it must be true, and yet Galmak couldn't see how. This all felt so right, so fated. They were guiding him somehow and he was sure he _knew_…

And then all at once, he did know. He stood stock-still in shock with his eyes fixed on the dark outline of the ridge against the stars, digesting the thought, waiting for this new realization to feel wrong to him.

_Sometimes what seems wrong can be right if done for the right reasons_.

_I'm so sorry_, Palla said quietly into his mind, and he knew she really was. He was too. But he also knew what was right and he knew what he loved more.

_I'm sorry_, he whispered to the earth and the wind, to the fire in the stars and the water in the plants around him. _But you lose._

* * *

Serlah's eyes were wet with grief for her son, but she knew he'd chosen rightly and she was as proud as it was possible for a mother to be.

"You'll need strength for this," she said. "It will be difficult, and I won't be able to intervene if you falter. You'll remember everything?"

He smiled at her fondly. "I'll remember."

It had been a long day. He'd ridden out with his mother at dawn, past the ridge to a lone tree sheltered in a small hollow, and there he'd begun to feel the elements slipping away from him, just as his shaman ancestors had all those years ago. Serlah hadn't tried to deter him from the course he'd chosen and she had prepared him as well as she could. Galmak hoped it would be enough; he wanted this, but the new knowledge felt like the first chill of a dreaded winter and he didn't want to learn any more than he had to. It already frightened him how easily it had come to him, as if it had been lurking just beyond feeling and only waiting for his summons.

The day was dropping toward twilight now. He reached to the earth below him and felt it recoil slightly. Grimly he withdrew and resolved never to seek it again. _I'm doing this for the right reasons_.

--

Firelight flickered beneath the trees, stirred by the warm wind. Hyara was glad for the warmth of the night; she felt the cold of the bond all too keenly on the inside and didn't want to be shivering during what was to come.

Gheris sat with her, waiting. He hadn't said a word about being here, but Hyara could tell he'd wanted to give her the moral support and she'd asked him to keep her company through it. Galmak would be here too, of course. Lurigk had invented some pretext to visit a neighboring farm and had asked Olkhor to come along. The old orc realized something was going on and had probably guessed at a few generalities, but Hyara definitely preferred that the details remain a mystery to him.

Any moment now, Serlah would come out of the house. She was in there now with Galmak; doing what, Hyara didn't know. No doubt this would be painful for her as well as Hyara and she was probably still preparing. Gheris was whistling softly and he winked encouragingly at his sister.

"It's never quite as bad as it seems," he said.

She laughed in spite of herself. "You're the expert, hmm."

Finally she saw the glow of light spilling from an opened door and she could just make out Galmak's and Serlah's dark figures approaching. Hyara stood up nervously. _Light, give me strength to face this again_.

Galmak strode over and stood in front of her. She smiled at him bravely, thinking he meant to encourage her before it all began, and she kissed him briefly before calming herself to face Serlah. Galmak gave her hand a squeeze and then, without a word, he stepped back from her and drew a small knife. He slid the blade across his palm and then he took Hyara's hand again, looking into her eyes and giving her a tender smile.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, and then made a quick slash across her palm.

Hyara bit her lip and blinked away tears rising, not from the brief pain, but from what she now understood he must be doing. _Oh, Galmak_. He clasped her hand and her cobalt blood mingled with his deep red-black blood, letting out a soft hiss as different body chemistries reacted and mixed. Nearby, Serlah watched with intense pride and terrible worry as her son smeared his blood and his mate's blood gently on Hyara's forehead.

Hyara swallowed, unable to take her eyes off her husband as he closed his eyes and raised his hands toward her. They stood motionless for a moment; all was silent except for the crackle of the fire and the swish of the wind in the grass. And then she felt something. It was a very small something at first; a mere tug on her insides that made her stomach flip over unpleasantly. Then the cold of the bond with Teyagah jolted to the surface of her being, like an anchor chain suddenly jerked taut. She moaned and closed her eyes to steady herself, then sobbed as another horrible wrench wracked her. He'd given up his connection to the elements because of this; he must have. _Why did you do it, love? You never should have…_ But at the same time the love and pride she felt almost overwhelmed the pain.

Just as had happened before, dark magic curled from his fingers and wrapped her. First she was too hot, then cold feathered outward from the pit of her stomach and she fell to her knees, shivering. All the while there was that wrenching, twisting sensation, like something thrashing and fighting inside her. Galmak's eyes were open now, staring at her, and there was no room in them for anything but fierce concentration. The cold, choking thing inside her stretched and writhed, as if it had a life of its own and recognized the assault against it. Hyara's inner self pushed at it instinctively in revulsion, and suddenly she saw surprise and a faint smile form on Galmak's face. She locked her eyes on his face and pushed at Teyagah's bond with all the strength she could gather.

And she wasn't alone, she realized. There was something new she could feel now, something warm and strong fighting along with her. She clung to it, to what she knew was Galmak, and then with a suddenness and intensity that made her cry out, the something that was cold and hard snapped and whirled away into nothingness. The warmth and the strength seared into her and… and _joined_ with her. She cried out again, but this time it wasn't in pain.

He was kneeling on the ground with her now, staring at her in wonder, and she stared right back.

"I… I can feel you," she whispered. He felt like light and fire and joy and relief. The thing connecting them caressed her like a warm breeze, nudging her gently in the direction she already wanted to go.

Galmak wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. "I can feel you too," his voice rumbled softly, tickling her ear. She was all warmth and softness and fierce, unwavering devotion; she was the whole of his life and his world, and now they were a part of each other in a way they never could have imagined before. He kissed her, and to his wonderment he felt his own love and her love reflected back and bounced between them like a flame in a room of mirrors.

Serlah and Gheris retreated discreetly back to the house; Galmak and Hyara were now alone together in the soft firelight and the surrounding night. Hyara pulled her mate down to the ground to rest gently on top of her and they clung to each other as if nothing could ever separate them.

"You've given up everything for me," she murmured.

He smiled and traced his fingers around the curve of her earlobe. "For every little thing I've given up, I've gotten something else a lot more worthwhile. When are you going to believe me?"

She laughed softly, feeling his sincerity, and also feeling her own awe and joy echoed in him. "This is a blessing," she said.

"Oh yes," Galmak replied, kissing her again softly. "We've been blessed."

* * *


	15. II: Home Again

**A/N**: Okay, I guess I'll start putting this part up. This part will be pretty different in tone from the first part and should feel like an interlude before part 3, which is coming along... very slooowly. Cheers!

* * *

This was all so incredibly pointless. Hyara furrowed her brow in irritation, discreetly rubbing her forehead near one horn and sending an outwardly blank but inwardly malevolent look around the table. She hadn't yet ascertained exactly why the Sha'tar had felt it necessary to torment the Kanrethad by asking their representatives to attend these talks. As far as she could tell, everything had degenerated hours ago when the Horde and Alliance representatives had each opened with veiled insults and honeyed threats against the other. She let her eyes wander casually to Remta sitting at her left. He appeared his usual cool self, patient and attentive, but under the table one finger was tapping silently at his knee.

Hyara stifled the urge to let a little of her boredom and frustration seep through the bond to Galmak. He was somewhere in Lower City, she guessed from the vague feel of it, probably doing something at least marginally more interesting than she was. There was a feeling of mild contentment trickling through which he probably wasn't even aware of communicating to her. She wondered if he might be able to sense her feelings even though she thought she'd managed to hold them back. This intimacy of feeling and awareness was most decidedly something they hadn't gotten used to yet in the few short weeks since Galmak had wrested the bond from Teyagah.

"Emissary Hyara, do you have something to add?"

Her eyes snapped into focus on the Sha'tari mediator who'd spoken. The woman was staring at her with one brow arched imperiously and her blue lips pursed in a thin line.

"Ah, no, exarch," Hyara said. She couldn't seem to muster the energy to feel guilty for not paying close attention. "Or rather, only that since we're meant to serve as a neutral party here it would make sense for the Horde and the Alliance to at least pretend to consult us, as I was under the impression that they would." _Oh, shit_. She'd just said that out loud. Remta was staring at her now with open amusement evident on his usually impassive face.

"I'm afraid I have to agree," grumbled a tauren to her right. He wore the colors of the Cenarion Expedition and had the unmistakable aura of a druid about him that Hyara could only describe as "earthy," somehow. "Frankly, so far it seems we've only been wasting our time, exarch. They won't budge, and the Sha'tar don't appear willing to do what's necessary to settle the matter, in this case."

"The matters at issue here are not easily or swiftly dealt with," growled the Horde representative, a particularly ferocious-looking orc with a long, grizzled beard. He'd redirected his glare to Hyara and the tauren from the human Alliance representative.

"It seems to me they could be," Remta said, incurring a nasty look from both the orc and the human. "If you're going to keep the peace inside the city, then keep it. Tolerate no disturbances, regardless of the status of those involved. There might be trouble at first, but even newcomers will soon learn."

"And have you paid no attention to our discussion for the past hour?" the human snapped. "There _has_ been trouble. We will not tolerate a slight to one of our most respected citizens! The Horde _and_ the Sha'tar must see that!"

"Nor will we tolerate any Alliance claims of wrongdoing on the part of an honored member of the Horde!" the orc snarled.

"At least now we can pretend to have served our purpose here," Remta said dryly. The Broken rose and directed a slight bow toward the seated representatives. "I've given my council and I see no further purpose in staying. Emissary Hyara and I will leave you now to resolve this 'special case' as you see fit."

Hyara suppressed a sigh of relief; the tauren snorted and stood also. What bad luck for them to have been in the city and available to take part in this.

"I'm sorry, Remta," she said in a low voice as they stepped out of the meeting chamber onto the Terrace of Light. "I know I've got to learn to control my tongue better." She sighed ruefully, then frowned and fussed impatiently with the bodice of her pale blue robes. It all seemed of a piece: she still didn't feel suited for the role of a diplomat or for the robes that went with it.

"It didn't matter in this instance, Hyara," he answered with a small smile and a shake of his head that sent his stringy white hair swaying. "You only said what the rest of us were thinking and gave us an opportunity to escape. These problems have become all too familiar lately and I didn't wish to involve myself in them here also, if I can avoid it."

Hyara nodded sympathetically. It was proving a rocky adjustment for Karkun Kamil to transition from a tiny, isolated settlement of Broken into a town capable of welcoming Horde, Alliance, and any others who sought sanctuary. Remta often found his hands full mediating disputes and even occasionally disciplining those who had made a particular nuisance of themselves. It was all part and parcel to claiming a legitimate place in the political order of Outland, of course, but the past year had been a sometimes exhausting challenge for him and the rest of the Kanrethad.

Galmak's feel seemed to be drawing nearer, along with Gink. Hyara sighed inwardly, guessing that she hadn't been as successful as she'd hoped at suppressing the relief she'd felt at leaving the meeting. Before long, she spotted Galmak's dark ponytail weaving a path above the shorter heads through the city's usual bustle and throngs of people. He emerged from the crowd with Palla and Gink at his side, and Hyara and Remta strolled over to meet him across the grey stone terrace.

"Didn't go well, I take it?" he said with a slight frown that made his tusks look all the fiercer.

"We were only there for decoration," Hyara sighed.

Galmak threw her a wolfish grin and she blushed deep blue, knowing what he was thinking. Remta appeared not to notice.

"They were never actually interested in what we had to say; I can only imagine we were there as a placating gesture of some sort," the Broken shook his head. "The problems the Sha'tar must deal with here are mostly beyond the scope of my experience and I can only tell them what I would do if I were unfortunate enough to be in their place."

"Well, we may have a problem of our own," Galmak said, and it was Hyara's turn to frown. She hadn't felt that coming; he seemed quite calm. "Somebody found me sitting in a tavern in Lower City: a dwarf. He seemed to know who I was and he knew about my association with the Kanrethad. He wouldn't say very much, but he wants to talk to Remta." The orc shrugged and raised an eyebrow at the Broken. "I didn't promise anything, but I told him I'd mention it to you. He was pretty insistent that he see you very soon."

Remta looked mildly puzzled. "I don't know who that could be, but I suppose I might just as well find out."

Galmak led the way back down into Lower City. It was shady and cool in the late afternoon between the high walls. The city seemed to be slowing down in preparation for the evening; merchants were locking shops and hauling carts away, and people were drifting home. The cooking smells of early meals mingled with wood smoke and some of the less savory scents that attended a city crowded with people and animals.

The tavern Galmak made for was a small one, out of the way at the south edge of town and usually relatively quiet even at night. The human family who ran it discouraged troublemakers with the enormous greatsword they kept behind the bar, wielded to expert effect by one of the amiable but burly sons of the family. He nodded to Galmak as the group came in, recognizing the orc from earlier, and jerked a thumb toward one corner.

The dwarf was still where Galmak had left him and looking impatient about it. As soon as his eyes lighted on Remta, he jumped up and stood watching them as they approached the table, twisting a misshapen hat nervously in his hands. He cleared his throat with a gruff cough and held out a slab of a hand to the Broken.

"Name's Kellig Marver," the dwarf said in a soft, hoarse voice. His black eyes narrowed as he peered up at Remta, examining his face. "Oloru, are yeh?"

The Broken froze for half a second in the act of shaking the dwarf's hand. "No; I am his brother, Remta," he answered. "Oloru died a year ago."

"Ah, I'm sorry, then, for that." Kellig bowed his head slightly and then indicated chairs for the rest of them. "Sorry ta take up yer time, too. Won't be long about it." He heaved a deep sigh and lowered his considerable paunch back into his chair.

"Forgive the question, but how did you know my brother?" Remta asked. "I don't even see how that is possible."

"No, no, I didna. Didna mean to give yeh that impression. More like, I knew _of_ him, from the stories I heard abou' yeh all. Didna hear he's no longer with us, I only guessed he was still in charge." Kellig paused and tapped a finger on the table. His bushy black brows knit in a frown and he seemed suddenly hesitant, despite his earlier impatience.

Remta nodded gravely. "I have taken over my brother's duties as leader, as much as any one person can be said to be 'in charge' of the Kanrethad. This is Hyara, our envoy to the people of Azeroth, and I believe you have already met her husband, Galmak," he said, indicating the draenei and the orc. He paused, but the dwarf remained nervously silent.

"What is it I can help you with?" Remta prodded gently.

"Well, it's… see, my family'n myself… We're looking ta find ourselves a new home. We're hopin' we can join yeh."

Remta leaned back in his chair, causing it to creak dangerously. He cast a thoughtful look at Hyara, who raised an eyebrow minutely in surprise.

"Why is that, Mr. Marver?" he asked.

"Please, just Kellig. In all honesty, we're tired o' the life we been living in Kharanos. Gotten to be too many people, too much happenin' there for the military. We want a quieter life in a better place. We want ta be somewhere we can be useful."

"Hmm," Remta made a thoughtful noise. "There are many ways to be useful. What did you have in mind?"

Hyara exchanged a look with Galmak; he too seemed surprised by the dwarf's request. It was a bit unorthodox for a dwarf to think of joining with Broken. There was no special animosity there, but there were also no particular connections. There had to be a dozen other factions in Azeroth or Outland that would have made a more logical choice for a dwarf family seeking a new life. Unless, of course, Nagrand was just far enough to escape something.

"Well, our blacksmithing, see. I'll bet yer people could use a couple o' good blacksmiths," Kellig said, nodding enthusiastically. "Nobody else like a dwarf at the anvil, and me wife and I make quite a pair."

"What makes you think Nagrand and the Kanrethad are your best choice?" Galmak asked. Hyara was uneasy for some reason and he found himself mirroring her emotion. He tried to close out his own emotions and maintain some amount of objectivity. Their bond was often a welcome closeness – and even a rapturous experience in their more intimate moments – but there were also times he discovered it could be an annoyance and a hindrance to his own thoughts.

The dwarf eyed Galmak for a few seconds as if considering whether or not he had the right to ask questions. A valid point, Galmak thought, considering he wasn't part of the Kanrethad, but his mate was, and this might concern her safety.

"Yer all dedicated to peace," Kellig finally answered, addressing Remta. "I'm sick of the fightin' with the Horde, whether I have to see much of it or not. I see the guns and I see the weapons that go through Kharanos. By the Light, I've made some of 'em. Me wife and I don't do that anymore. Mostly we make armor, see; at least that's defensive. We've got a son now. Don't want him growing up learnin' ta kill people."

"A good reason," Remta said, but Hyara thought he still looked unconvinced. It might be a good reason, but it was also a very tidy and vague reason. Lots of people were tired of the fighting, but that didn't mean they left their homes, families, and friends.

"Well, there are others I will need to consult about this, Kellig," the Broken continued after a thoughtful moment. "You will be in Shattrath for some time?"

"Ah… indefinitely, guess yeh could say," Kellig answered. He looked suddenly downcast and Hyara felt her heart softening a bit. He must already have left Kharanos for good and now he and his family had nowhere to go.

Remta allowed a small sigh to escape him as the three of them left the tavern. "We are ill-prepared to take in very many new people permanently right now. There is still so much to be done and learned even to handle all the people only passing through…"

"You knew it would happen eventually," Hyara said gently. "I was only the first. There'll be many more who want to join you in the years to come."

"Oh, yes," Remta smiled wryly. "We knew it would happen. We'll take anyone we're able to even now before we're truly prepared, provided their ideals coincide with our own. What do the two of you think of this dwarf? Galmak, you spoke with him before. What were your impressions?"

They sat down on the wide grey steps of one of Lower City's public areas and Galmak considered for a moment before replying. "He seems in earnest, I suppose. He seems as if he really does want to join the Kanrethad and be some kind of help. I don't think he's just looking for handouts."

"No," Remta agreed thoughtfully. "He did not strike me as that type either."

"I suppose what strikes me strangest is that he's latched onto the Kanrethad at all. Nagrand is a long way from any family he might have in Kharanos. A long way from any kind of connections he might have in Dun Morogh."

"Savory or unsavory," Hyara added.

Galmak nodded and continued, "He was polite to me from the start, which I'd say is a point in his favor. Shows he's serious about getting along with people, regardless of faction."

"I think… I think it couldn't hurt to give him a chance," Hyara said a little hesitantly. "If he turns out to be a bad fit it will probably show up quickly, don't you think?"

"My inclination also," Remta said. "There's no need to give him a definitive answer right away. We could invite his family to Karkun Kamil with the understanding that they must show us they will be a positive addition to our community. I know Kereth also would be in favor of allowing him a chance to prove himself."

Hyara nodded her agreement. Oloru's widow would undoubtedly be sympathetic to Kellig's desire to keep his family safe.

"Well, I suppose it is settled then. We will allow them to come with us to Karkun Kamil and we will see what happens from there. Hyara, it's still your intention to come also?" The Broken rose from the steps and they all resumed their walk toward Aldor Rise.

"Yes," Hyara answered a bit sheepishly. She'd been absent from Karkun Kamil for months, helping Galmak pursue his clan across Outland and Azeroth. It had taken much longer than they'd intended and they'd gotten into a lot more trouble than they'd dreamed they would. In some ways she wished she could have spent longer with Gheris afterward, somewhere they'd be sure not to run into any unwelcome adventures. Or they could even have taken a little time to show Olkhor a few of Azeroth's sights, but the old orc had chosen to set off on his own for Orgrimmar, somehow realizing that his clansman and his mate needed time to themselves to adjust to… something. Hyara sighed softly and ran her mind across the warm threads connecting her to Galmak. He felt the brush and brushed her in return. It all felt so odd still, much stranger than when she'd first been getting used to the bond with Gink. She and Galmak couldn't even communicate in complete thoughts as she could with her cat, but somehow this still felt closer, much more intimate. She knew they both wondered if someday they would even still notice it. Would they eventually become so tied up in the feel of each other that Galmak would be like an extension of herself, and she of him? That thought was… unpleasant, actually, Hyara was surprised to admit. Not only did she never want to become so jaded to him, she also didn't want to surrender her own distinct identity to this bond.

"What's got you so worried?" Galmak whispered suddenly at her side. She looked over at him, startled for a second, but then she smiled.

"It's nothing," she said lightly and squeezed his hand.

He didn't believe her, but he decided to let it lie for now. She would tell him if it were something about this dwarf and the mild enigma of his motivations. What else could it be? Well, it could be a lot of other things, Galmak admitted ruefully. He himself still worried daily that Teyagah hadn't given up on finding her escaped draenei slave. There were the dreams that he'd had only hints of since escaping the Aerie Peaks. And then there was also the matter of that annoying little tug he felt almost constantly, that urge to allow himself… He growled inwardly and shoved the thought away. The more he thought about it and the more he worried about _not_ allowing himself, the worse it always felt. _Does Mother feel this way? _ He wished he'd known to ask her while they were still in the Barrens. She must have learned to live with it, or perhaps it faded with time. Galmak could only hope.

And now it was Hyara giving him the concerned look. He returned her smile and made a face, and she laughed softly in understanding. Sometimes the mirroring of feeling and emotion was welcome, and sometimes not. They had a long way to go to understand it all.

* * *

Remta sent a message to Kellig that evening: they'd be leaving for Karkun Kamil at noon the next day and his family was welcome to join them if they could make themselves ready; otherwise, the Kanrethad would expect them in Nagrand sometime soon. The reply came within the hour: Kellig and his family would be ready at noon.

The mid-day trickle of people moving about Aldor Rise paid little attention to the oddly assorted caravan of Broken, one draenei, one orc, and a dwarf family as they left the city and struck out on the High Path into Nagrand. Kellig had given introductions all around to his wife, Tully, and their tiny son, Anyen. The little family was grave and quiet, barely saying a word to anyone after the necessary pleasantries were over with. Hyara thought they seemed shy and a little scared. Tully sent covert, wide-eyed glances at Galmak and stayed as far from him as she could.

After a while, the draenei slowed her horse to fall back next to the dwarves. They had only one snow-white ram between them, but it was a solid, strong-looking beast that seemed used to the burden of two people and a baby.

"Have you been to Nagrand before?" Hyara asked by way of an opening. She would be surprised if the answer was yes, but it seemed polite to ask.

As she'd thought, Kellig shook his head. "N'er been much of nowhere outside Dun Morogh and Loch Modan 'til now."

"Stormwind once," Tully said in a quiet voice. She tucked a stray lock of auburn hair behind her ear and looked over shyly at Hyara.

Hyara smiled at her. "How old is your son?"

"Nigh a year now," Tully replied with a proud look at the baby in her arms. "Yeh have children yourself?"

"Ah, no, not… not yet," Hyara said. Kellig's face wore a faintly uncomfortable expression and Hyara guessed suddenly that he hadn't told his wife that the draenei was married to the orc riding ahead of them. It was his business what he told his wife, but they were both going to have to get used to it, Hyara thought with slight annoyance.

"I've been told this place was beautiful. Appears they were right," Kellig said, gazing around at the green hills and blue patches of water stretching to the horizon. It was another golden, balmy day in Nagrand, clear and bright as ever.

"Oh, yes," Hyara agreed. "It's like the Barrens in some ways, but wetter and not as hot. The days are usually like this at this time of year."

"Quite a change from Dun Morogh," Kellig muttered. Hyara couldn't decide if he intended that to be complimentary or not.

Tully glanced again at Hyara and then asked hesitantly, "Are there… are there many Horde at Karkun Kamil?" She looked furtively up the path at Galmak where he was loping along on his timber wolf.

"We get every sort of people and faction passing through," Hyara answered gently. "That is our goal, after all. We want peace with everyone we can get it with, and we don't tolerate conflict between Horde and Alliance inside the village."

"I tol' yeh it would be that way," Kellig said to his wife in a low voice. "That one up there is Horde, not strictly belongin' to the Kanrethad." With a nod of his head he jutted his thick black beard toward Galmak. Tully's eyes widened slightly and she held the baby closer.

"Is he dangerous?" she whispered.

Hyara couldn't help but laugh. "He's very _un_dangerous to anyone who isn't looking for trouble. You have nothing to fear from him, Tully," she said reassuringly.

Karkun Kamil wasn't a long journey from Shattrath, but nevertheless they stopped eventually for a brief rest. Tully walked a short distance away and sat down beneath a tree to nurse the baby, while the rest of them gathered to chat and stretch their legs. Galmak thought Hyara felt calm and even relaxed, which was a relief after weeks of being on edge, first in the Aerie Peaks and then as they traveled back east from the Barrens to return to Outland. It was good for her mind to be occupied for a change with these more mundane issues.

" 'Ow much further is it?" Kellig asked.

Galmak looked down in surprise, not expecting the dwarf would choose to address him over anyone else here. "Several more hours," he replied. "We should get there by evening."

The dwarf nodded and sat down in the grass nearby. He squinted up at the sky where nether energy was just visible through the sunlight, twisting eerily in purple and blue. "This place is… I canna see how you get used to it. No proper sky, no proper seas, chunks o' land floating off in all directions."

"You do get used to it. It does take some time, I'll admit. A brave move, pulling up roots in Azeroth to come here permanently." Galmak cocked an eyebrow at Kellig, who either missed the invitation to explain or chose to ignore it. The dwarf waved Tully over, who had finished nursing Anyen and was still standing beneath the tree, staring apprehensively at her husband where he sat so near an orc. Hyara wandered over from talking to Remta and smiled reassuringly at the dwarf woman.

"He's harmless," Hyara said with a smile as she sat down beside Galmak. He snorted and tugged her tail.

Tully gave her a quavering smile and took a spot next to Kellig. Anyen was fast asleep in her arms, making tiny whistling snores.

"He's so quiet," Hyara marveled. "He's hardly made a sound the whole trip."

"He's got a pair o' lungs in him when he feels like it," Kellig said with a proud look at his son.

"Do you have family back in Kharanos?" Hyara asked.

Kellig and Tully exchanged a look. "Jus' me brother," Kellig answered after a moment. "In Ironforge though, not Kharanos. He's, ah… he's an advisor to the king."

"I have an aunt in Stormwind," Tully said shyly. "But I havena seen 'er in years."

"We must continue now," a Broken interrupted politely. "We'll still reach Karkun Kamil by evening."

"What do you make of them?" Galmak asked Hyara once they were back on their way.

She frowned thoughtfully. "I can't decide. They seem nice enough, but there are times they also seem to be concealing something."

"They're worth keeping an eye on," he grunted in agreement.

"Oh, good Light, love. They have a baby. You can't think they're up to no good out here?"

"Not so much that; more like they're trying to escape the 'no good' they already did somewhere else. I don't suppose you keep up with news from Ironforge?"

Hyara rolled her eyes and gave him a playful jab. "In any case, I'm convinced there's no harm in Tully. I don't think she'd ever do anything to knowingly endanger her son."

"Probably true," Galmak nodded. "I suppose we'll see how they settle in once we get there. Maybe we'll get them to give up some answers."

"You scare her, you know."

He stared at her for a few seconds, speechless, before a grin cracked his face and he threw his head back in a bellow of laughter. Hyara felt his sudden mirth bubbling up like a spring and she couldn't help joining him. They grinned at each other, resisting the urge to glance back at the dwarf family.

"Try not to be so scary," Hyara whispered and stuck out her tongue.

"I'm not even trying. I'm just that good," he replied with a chuckle, but then he grew more serious. "They're going to have to get used to seeing Horde around. And there are Mag'har through there all the time now; it's pretty much a given that there'll be some of them around even if there's no other Horde."

"I know," she sighed. "But look at it this way, love. From what they said, they've never been out of Alliance territory in their lives until now. I imagine they've seen more Horde in Outland in the past few days than they even knew existed before."

He shrugged. "So we'll make allowances for some extra jumpiness at first. We're not all monsters though, you know," he said with a touch of grouchiness.

Hyara huffed an exasperated sigh. "Oh, stop it. Don't talk to me as if I agree with their perspective. I'm only pointing out why this will be difficult for them."

"I know, I know, woman; don't get defensive," Galmak growled. He tugged her tail then and smiled apologetically. "It's not as if it's my call anyway. It'll be for you all to decide whether they stay or not. Just don't think I'm not going to speak up if I think they might be dangerous somehow."

Karkun Kamil in the sunset was like a bowl filling slowly with shadow. The red and orange bled away as they descended into the cleft, leaving evening to creep upward from the bottom of the little canyon. Palla and Gink raced ahead down into the village, announcing the party's arrival with their excited commotion. The elekk trumpeted happily and villagers began to drift over toward the stream to meet them. Hyara spotted Kereth among them with her distinctive auburn braid draped over her shoulder. She smiled warmly and wrapped Hyara in a hug as the draenei jumped down from her horse.

"It's been too many months," Kereth said.

"I know," Hyara said apologetically. "We took longer in Azeroth than we meant to–"

"Don't misunderstand me," Kereth laughed. "You took only the time you needed. I'm just glad you've returned."

"Remta said you've had some problems lately."

Kereth's pale brow furrowed. "It's been nothing we can't handle. Only the usual difficulties you would expect." She smiled at Galmak as he led his wolf over. "You must come and have something to eat. You must be hungry after your journey."

"Kereth, there's something we need to discuss," Remta said.

"Oh! Don't think I'd forgotten you," she said with a smile and gave him a quick squeeze. "I've only just seen you a few days ago though."

He smiled, and to Hyara's surprise he chuckled softly. "No. It's about them." He gestured discreetly toward where Kellig was unloading the little family's few packs from the ram. Tully was hugging Anyen close to her breast, looking a little lost amidst the shuffle of getting the caravan's elekk unloaded and led away to the stables. Her eyes slid over to light on Kereth and her face seemed to freeze in shock.

"Ah," Kereth said, nodding. "Do they need a place to stay? I believe the inn has plenty of room tonight."

"I'm afraid it's more complicated than that," Remta replied. "They are hoping we will allow them to join us. They want to become part of the Kanrethad."

"That's… well, I suppose that's wonderful?" Kereth said, raising her brows at him. "You're right; we do have some things to discuss. But for now, they have a young child and they'll be wanting a room in the inn."

Hyara went over with her to the family. Kellig was staring after the ram as it was led away, his lips pursed. Tully shrank behind him slightly at Kereth's approach and locked widened eyes on the female Broken.

"Hello," Kereth said with a smile and nodded her head in a bow. "I am Kereth. Welcome to Karkun Kamil."

"Kellig Marver," the dwarf said a little too loudly and firmly, and thrust out a hand. "This is me wife, Tully."

Kereth took his hand and smiled reassuringly at Tully. "And who is the little one?"

"Anyen," Tully answered faintly, still staring wide-eyed at Kereth.

Remta and Galmak also came over to join them and they began the short walk in the direction of the inn. Karkun Kamil had grown, even since Hyara and Galmak had last been here. There were a few new houses, a few new terraces on the cliff wall turned into garden plots. The inn itself had only just been built a little over half a year ago with help from the Kurenai, and its smooth stone walls and crystals gleamed new and still unscarred by the elements. The town seemed lively tonight, welcoming home the travelers from Shattrath as if they'd been gone longer than only a few days. That was one of the things Hyara loved about the Kanrethad: they valued their new-found freedom to leave and travel as they chose, but leaving only made them happier to return eventually to the place they loved most. Galmak was whistling at her side and she could tell he felt at ease. He slipped an arm around her waist and she laid her head briefly against his shoulder.

The inn's common room was warm and bright. Galmak grinned broadly, looking around; he'd forgotten how different the inside was from the outside. From the outside, the inn was the very essence of a draenei building: warm brown stone, purple and blue crystals; soft, rounded lines. The inside, however, was an entirely different story. The Kanrethad hadn't known the first thing about running an inn when they'd opened Karkun Kamil to travelers; in fact, it had been months before they'd even gotten an inn built. They'd needed help to run it, and help had come in the form of Na'grok. Na'grok was a Mag'har, formerly an employee under the iron fist of Matron Tikkit, the innkeeper in Garadar. He'd been longing for an escape, hoping to find a place where he'd be free to run an inn his own way, and he'd leapt instantly at the chance once he'd learned of the Kanrethad's need. It didn't matter a whit to him that he'd be surrounded by the Mag'har's former enemies and have to play host to Alliance as well as Horde; he'd be "out of the clutches of that bitch-devil." Na'grok was an orc who knew how to keep his priorities straight.

Galmak lowered himself to the floor and settled with a grunt of satisfaction onto one of the thick Mar'har-woven rugs. The rest of the town might be dominated by all things draenei, but in here he could almost fool himself into thinking he was in Orgrimmar if he didn't look too closely at the walls behind the colorful woven hangings. Hyara gave him an amused look as she went over with Kereth and the dwarves to talk to Na'grok about rooms.

The rug was soft and Galmak leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes for a brief rest until Hyara came back. It felt good to be here, he had to admit, even coming straight from the comfort of the place he'd grown up. In the short time since they'd discovered it, Karkun Kamil had come to feel like a home for him and Hyara together, independent of anywhere previously familiar to them as individuals. It saddened him a bit, though, that they didn't really have roots any deeper here than they did anywhere else. No actual home, no place of their own; only a guaranteed room in the inn. Would they ever have a real home together? Would they ever actually want that? He didn't know; he wasn't sure he wanted to tie himself down someplace yet. He grunted in wry amusement thinking of his parents: there had been a time when they hadn't believed they'd ever settle down somewhere. They'd spent a few years traveling all over Kalimdor with a baby in tow, exploring the orcs' new home continent before finally ending up right back near Orgrimmar.

He sensed Hyara near and then there was a light touch to his face. He opened his eyes and smiled at her.

"Did Na'grok threaten to eat them?" he asked.

She snorted and held out a hand to help him up. He took it but didn't use it; she'd end up flat on the floor if he pulled with even half his weight.

"We've got our usual room and the Marvers are all settled in. As settled in as they can be under Na'grok's nose, anyway," she shrugged.

"Well, then," Galmak said, business-like. "I suggest we go make good use of that room."

Hyara's laugh turned to a squeal as he pinched her butt. He loved doing that.

* * *

Hyara cuddled against Galmak in the darkness, basking in the afterglow of shared sensations and mirrored satisfaction. It was always like this anymore; the pleasure was more intense and the aftermath more fulfilling. They were both pleasantly tired after the long day, the kind of tired that makes it nice to lie still and sink slowly into sleep surrounded by drifting thoughts. The bond coiled warmly around them, matching the warmth in Galmak's body next to her.

"What are you thinking?" she whispered, suddenly curious to know exactly why he was as content as she was.

"Not much," he replied. "Only just glad to be back here after the whole mess."

"It wasn't all a mess."

"No. But plenty of it was highly unpleasant, I think you'll agree."

She felt slight annoyance in him now, along with unease. "I'm sorry," she said. "I wouldn't have said anything if…"

"I'm not annoyed at you, love. It was only one of those passing things. I'm glad to be back, that's all. Don't read more into me than you should."

Hyara bit her lip and tried to quell her own annoyance. She wasn't really annoyed at him, only at this strange blessing they had yet to get a handle on. It reminded her of some bizarrely convoluted gnomish-built machine where every function and interaction could be analyzed ad nauseam. Surely they ought to be grateful for the extra knowledge of each other this bond gave them, but where was it best to draw the line? The bond made it difficult to overlook the nuances of emotion that normally wouldn't even be evident.

"We'll figure it out," Galmak said gently. She kissed his bare chest and then twined her fingers with his before closing her eyes for the night.

* * *


	16. II: Uneasy Alliances

* * *

The next morning, Galmak left the inn only to see Kellig standing in the village green, turning a slow circle as if he were lost.

"Outhouse? Bathhouse?" Galmak said, raising an eyebrow and pointing back behind the inn. "I would've thought Na'grok –"

"Nah, nah, nah," Kellig said with an impatient shake of his head. "I'm surveyin' the lay o' the land for a smithy. Ah… just hoping for the best, that is," he added. "Best ta have it close to the stream… Where do these folks get their water at?" He waved a finger up and down the bank visible between the houses.

"Usually close to where it comes out of the cliff," Galmak replied. "But I've seen people get it from any old place in the village. It's a policy here not to do anything dirty in the stream where it runs by the village. They go down the cleft a ways to do washing and such."

"Hmm. That puts us a distance out of town," the dwarf said.

"Uh… no offense, but the Kanrethad value their peace and quiet too. I think they'd be happier with a smithy outside of town anyway."

Kellig looked at the orc askance but he finally nodded. "Most likely I'm gettin' ahead of meself regardless," he muttered. He cleared his throat nervously and then said, "Lucky thing yeh know Common. Most orcs know Common, do they?"

"Some do; I wouldn't say most do by any means. I only know it because my wife taught me," Galmak answered.

"I heard her talking Orcish though."

"That's how we do most of our talking," Galmak nodded. "Her brother taught her Orcish just for fun when she was little. She doesn't speak Common very often herself, but she thought it would be useful for me to know it, which it has been."

"Used to be part of the Alliance, didn't she?" Kellig asked.

"She did. She joined the Kanrethad about a year ago and agreed to be their ambassador to Azeroth."

Kellig shifted and his hands twisted nervously at a fold in his shirt. "I 'magine she must've caught some trouble fer associatin' with Horde when she was still in the Alliance."

"Ah… no. We were careful to stay clear of Alliance when we were together and we, uh… had it set up so the Horde didn't know she was Alliance," Galmak said uncomfortably. "She's gotten more trouble from the Alliance since she left them, actually."

"Can imagine so," Kellig grimaced.

"Why do you ask about her?" Galmak said with an attempt at casualness. It was just possible Kellig had let the conversation drift toward matters close to home for him.

"Just me curiosity. I heard stories in Shattrath about the Kanrethad; asked around after I first found out about 'em. Heard they wanted peace, heard they had a draenei ambassador who'd left the Alliance. Sounded like a good fit for me family." Kellig shrugged dismissively and frowned up at the orc, lowering his voice. "Canna say it wasn't unsettling to learn they're all Broken though. Never did see a Broken afore comin' to Outland. Draenei are somethin' of a rare sight themselves around Kharanos. Seen me some orcs in my day though, so yer a bit of a familiar face, you are." He flashed Galmak a sudden grin.

The orc grunted. "Never thought I'd see the day when a dwarf was glad to see an orc. But you know you really haven't answered the question of why you want to join the Kanrethad, Kellig."

Kellig's grin faded. "I thought I had. We're lookin' for some peace and quiet for ourselves an' our son."

"That's about what I'm looking for for myself and my mate. In order to get that, I have to keep an eye out. If you're bringing trouble here, I'm going to find out and do whatever I can about it." Galmak spoke quietly, but his voice held a hint of a hard edge.

The dwarf wore a scowl now. "Are yeh threatenin' me, orc?"

"Definitely not. I'm only giving you fair warning that I _will_ see you tossed out of here if it turns out you're up to no good."

Kellig glowered at him for a moment. "I only want what's best for me son and me wife," he said, turning on his heel and stalking away.

Galmak frowned after him and shook his head. It was difficult for the orc not to believe Kellig; he couldn't comprehend the man who would knowingly harm his family. Yet there had to be something going on with those dwarves.

Hyara had left the inn a little earlier, intending to find Remta or Kereth and figure out how she could be useful now that she was here and ready to be put to work again, so Galmak set off away from the inn into the center of the little town and the market square, looking around for her.

The market, as usual, was just barely busy enough to sustain itself. The town's population had never had a need for a market before; all the Kanrethad knew each other and they knew what each person had available to trade and give. Most of them still operated amongst themselves in that same fashion, but a small market had become necessary to supply travelers and to accommodate the traveling merchants who occasionally wanted to sell their wares in Karkun Kamil for a few days before moving on.

There were very few people about this morning and only four little stalls set up. It could have been a crowd worthy of Orgrimmar, though, and Galmak could still have pointed straight to where Hyara was; her feel was strong and he saw her standing at one of the stalls, talking casually with the Broken woman tending it. A colorful array of vegetables was piled in baskets on a blanket laid on the ground. Tully was kneeling with Anyen wrapped in a sling on her back, picking out a selection from the baskets. Hyara turned and gave Galmak a quick smile without breaking the flow of her conversation.

" 'Morning, Nitorii," Galmak nodded to the Broken and then glanced down at the dwarf, who had shrunk away slightly at his approach. Tully rose with a furtive look at Galmak and shyly handed over her basket for the Broken to tally up.

"Good morning, Galmak," Nitorii said. A little coolly, he couldn't help but notice; not all of the Kanrethad were as accepting as Remta and Kereth, although most were and those who weren't did at least try to be. He was just glad their mild intolerance of him didn't seem to extend to Hyara.

"Did you find Remta?" he asked his wife.

She shook her head. "No, I couldn't find either of them. They both left with a hunting party before dawn and Na'grok said they won't be back 'til noon or later. He said they thought I should take a day to rest before they let me in on any of their problems," she said, making a face.

"One day won't make much difference," he said with a smile. "Anyway, you can bother them when they get back and maybe they'll relent." Galmak threw a glance at Tully, who had her basket back now and seemed to be trying not to look as if she were staring at him. He wasn't entirely sure how he could be any less scary, but maybe talking to her would be a start.

"How do you like it here, Tully?" he asked, trying to keep his voice low and his manner casual and non-threatening.

The dwarf woman froze and her eyes widened. "Ah – I – I like it well enough," she squeaked in a voice barely audible. She looked toward the inn, mumbled something, and fled.

Nitorii was watching with raised eyebrows; Galmak felt rueful amusement from Hyara.

"Gods, what did I say?" he asked in astonishment.

"Nothing, it's alright," Hyara sighed. "Although you did sound a bit like you were growling at her."

"I wasn't growling," he growled indignantly. "I was trying not to be so scary. You did say I should try that."

She laughed. "Oh, I didn't mean it really… Good Light, love. I was joking. It's scarier when you put up a forced effort like that."

"Well, then I'm baffled. I guess I'll just stay clear of her."

"No, don't do that either. Just don't be any different around her, that's all."

They strolled down to the stream's edge and walked along in silence for a few minutes. Mid-morning in the cleft was always cool and pleasant, full of the damp smell of water plants and herbs growing in the little terraced gardens on the cliff. Sunlight was beginning to slide down the rocky walls on its way to filling the cleft with direct light, something which Karkun Kamil only got for several hours a day. Hyara found that she liked it that way; the mellow, indirect light made everything seem more tranquil.

"How have you been feeling lately?" she asked her husband suddenly.

He frowned, knowing what she meant. "About like I've been ever since… they left me," he finished lamely with a shrug. "It's hard sometimes. Maybe it'll get easier eventually. Maybe I'll learn better how to ignore it."

Hyara bit her lip and looked away across the stream, examining the mossy cliff face. "Are you sure that… that you ought to ignore it?" she said in a small voice.

He growled low in his throat before he could stop himself. "I wasn't even sure at first that I wanted the powers of a shaman. I'm damn sure I don't want _these_ powers. This is exactly what my mother has worked to put behind her for half her life and it's what my grandmother is. I don't want it."

"It's also a part of what I am." Hyara struggled to keep her voice light and casual.

"You don't embrace that. I don't embrace this. As far as I'm concerned, the only part of it I will embrace is my bond with you. That's as far as I'm going. The ancestors started me on the path I needed to travel so I'd be ready to step in when you needed me, but I can't imagine they ever intended me to pursue this part of it."

She could feel his iron stubbornness, but she continued anyway. "You don't know that, love. And it's not all about what the ancestors intended, after all. You made every one of the decisions; they only just nudged you toward the right path. If… if it seems as though it's hurting you not to pursue this, I won't–"

Galmak growled again, making an impatient gesture, and Hyara broke off. _Obstinate man_, she thought, and allowed herself an irritated snort.

There was a shout behind them and they turned to see Kellig approaching, his stout legs stomping furiously at the ground.

"Yeh been threatenin' me wife now, have yeh?" he spat. His face was beet-red and his black brows were scrunched down in an angry V over his eyes.

"Not at all," Galmak rumbled. "I only asked her how she liked it here. She ran off like a branded boar."

"It's true," Hyara nodded. "She was scared because he talked to her."

"Yeh talked ta her. If she doesna want yeh talkin' ta her, then yeh willna talk ta her!" the dwarf roared in an accent thickened by anger.

The orc only growled in disgust and turned his back insultingly; he'd tried to be sociable with the dwarves, and if his efforts were wasted on these Alliance, it wasn't his fault. But Hyara didn't want to shrug it off so easily. She stepped right up to Kellig, hooves to toes, and glared down at him.

"My husband has been nothing but welcoming to you. He was the one who told Remta you wanted to talk to him! You'd all still be sitting in Shattrath right now if Galmak hadn't decided you deserved a chance to prove yourselves." She paused to let a little coolness enter her voice. "So far, you haven't done a very good job of demonstrating that you understand the Kanrethad's values."

"We want to. We– we want ta fit here, honest ta earth," said Tully's quiet voice.

Hyara and Kellig both turned, startled, to see her standing close to the bank of the stream. Galmak didn't look at her; he'd sensed her approach and didn't want to scare her any more than he apparently already had just by being around. He'd been fighting a bit to keep some of Hyara's anger from spilling into him, but now he suddenly found himself sad in a weary sort of way. He was an orc, and therefore to be feared, despite any evidence he could present to the contrary.

"Husband, don't argue with our hosts. Come away," Tully said, holding out a hand. Kellig seemed to droop all at once and he shuffled back to his wife's side. Tully dipped a grave bow of farewell to Hyara and steered Kellig gently away across the green to the inn.

Hyara plopped down to the grass at the stream's edge. Galmak sat beside her and hooked a finger under her chin, turning her face up to him.

"It's alright, love," he said, giving her tight smile.

"I can't stand it when people think you're anything but– but… the best man in the world?" she finished sheepishly and laughed.

Galmak's smile widened and he chuckled. "So I can't do any wrong in your eyes, huh. That's a useful piece of information."

"I wouldn't go that far," she smiled.

* * *

Just as Na'grok had predicted, Remta and Kereth returned with the hunting party at noon. Kereth found Hyara in the town's small meeting hall, helping to prepare the latest harvest of herbs. She looked up from chopping ragveil roots and motioned eagerly to the Broken woman.

"You didn't leave me with anything to do," Hyara chided. "I had to wander around and beg for work."

Kereth laughed. "We didn't need to put you to work the moment you got here. We've managed well for the past year."

Hyara looked crestfallen and Kereth hastened to soothe her. "It's not that we don't need you, Hyara; I didn't mean that. Only that we understand the value of rest. If I am not mistaken, you and Galmak both seem on edge," she said gently.

Hyara frowned down at the roots. "Is it that obvious?"

Kereth nodded. "Is it anything you'd like to tell me about?"

"It's nothing," Hyara said, biting her lip. "It's… it's nothing, really. But I came here to help after being gone too long and I'd like to be told where I can be most useful."

"You are doing fine right here for now," Kereth said, glancing toward the herbalist. He was sitting on the floor sorting and culling herbs, surrounded by more baskets than he could finish easily on his own. "I'm sure Saluu is very grateful for the extra help. We have had a very good growing season so far." She laid a hand on Hyara's arm and the draenei paused her work. "Hyara, I'd like to have Kellig and Tully to an evening meal. Remta will be there of course, and you and Galmak, and most likely Jartom and Lertu. You will come tonight?"

"Of course," Hyara nodded. "Tully won't want to leave Anyen behind though…"

"She won't have to if she doesn't wish to. But if she doesn't mind, I've found someone who will take care of him. There's no need to worry over this; it's all already arranged."

"We'll be there," Hyara sighed. "Although there's been some tension between Kellig and Galmak. They're both suspicious of each other."

"No need to worry, Hyara," Kereth repeated with a smile. "I'm sure they will both behave themselves."

They left the inn that evening just ahead of Kellig and Tully. Kellig seemed subdued compared to his behavior that morning, and he nodded a courteous hello to Galmak and Hyara, although he remained silent. Tully gave Hyara a hesitant smile before retreating shyly behind her husband. She had apparently been persuaded to part with Anyen for the evening; Kereth must have found someone who positively radiated reliability.

Dinner was quiet. Kereth had arranged extra cushions in her house's small front room and they all sat on the floor to eat in the Kanrethad fashion. Kellig's anger from earlier seemed to be gone without a trace and the nervousness he'd exhibited at his first talk with Remta had resurfaced. He avoided even looking at Galmak as much as politeness would allow, acting as if he were embarrassed for his outburst earlier. All the while Kereth was trying to draw Tully out, with little success. Hyara sighed inwardly, knowing that the Broken were just as puzzled by the dwarves' attitude as she and Galmak were.

"Tully, what sort of work do you do?" Kereth's smile was warm, but Hyara could see a hint of weariness in her eyes.

"I… I work with my husband," the dwarf replied, lowering her eyes.

"Oh, that's right," Hyara said. "Kellig mentioned you're a blacksmith too."

"Two blacksmiths in one family! And we haven't got a single one here," Kereth laughed.

"I do like it," Tully said. "I havena been able ta do me work like I ought since the babe came along, but he's a right good, quiet boy and doesn't make hardly a sound in the smithy. The poundin' of hammer on anvil is music ta his little ears. A good dwarf child." She looked up between the two women and smiled suddenly. It was an unassuming, infectious smile and they smiled back in relief. It was the most she'd said all night.

"What sorts of things do you make?" Jartom asked in his deep voice. Hyara didn't know him very well, but she'd been around him enough to know that his personality could come off fully as intimidating as his outward appearance. He commanded what few security forces the Kanrethad maintained and he was built for the job of a fighter.

Tully shrank slightly under his hard gaze but she answered in a steady voice. "I like to make armor. I suppose I have a special knack for makin' gauntlets. They're strong, see, but they need ta be delicate… perfectly articulated and smooth in the joints or they're good as useless."

Jartom narrowed his glowing eyes and nodded. "Hm. Interesting." There was really no telling if he actually meant it.

"And she's a fine hand at her job," Kellig said with pride. "Even with the boy on her back she can still do some things. Our son'll grow up ta be a smith himself, see if he don't."

"If the two of you are willing, I'd be grateful for your help with repairing a few items of armor," Jartom said.

"Ach, yes," Kellig nodded eagerly. "Jus' point us the way and we'll be right at it!"

"Perhaps not right at this moment," Remta said with a small smile.

"Ah, no," Kellig agreed, looking a little abashed. "Didn't mean that, o' course."

"How did you meet him?" Tully said quietly, looking demurely up at Hyara.

The draenei smiled. "The short story is that he saved my life and we fell in love."

Tully nodded and then peered over at Galmak, studying him covertly from behind her hair. "That must have been a shock," she said after a moment.

"Oh. Well, I suppose it was," Hyara answered, arching a brow. "Though it was more of a shock to come so close to death; after that, it wasn't quite as shocking to be saved by Horde as it could have been, I was really only grateful…"

"No, 'm sorry, I meant a shock to find yourself fallin' fer someone you'd always been told was an enemy."

Hyara laughed, as much from the amusement she felt from Galmak as from her own. "That's true; it was. But it wasn't long before I learned he wasn't an enemy."

"The tusks are just for decoration," Galmak said. "And opening cans."

Tully blinked at him for a moment and then a broad grin split her face before she looked away shyly. Kellig chuckled, looking relieved at his wife's reaction.

"We're not ones fer makin' enemies," Kellig said. "Only wanting ta live our quiet lives and raise our son ta be a proud dwarf. Had a good home fer him in Kharanos… ah, but that's neither here nor there," he finished hastily and took a gulp of ale.

"Yeh ought ta tell them, husband," Tully said quietly.

Kellig froze and his brows pulled down in a dark scowl at her. "No reason ta tell 'em. It's all done and gone now, dead and buried. There'll be no more talk of it. I won't have it followin' us around and plaguin' our son with rumors and lies."

"If they're ta take us in they ought ta know what manner o' folk we are. We're people who tell our hosts the truth and don't expect a warm welcome when we can't give likewise ta them. Makin' a clean break means comin' clean, husband."

Kellig slammed his mug to the floor and rubbed a knotty hand across his brows. "We didna do a thing wrong," he growled. "Only just been hounded bad on account o' me brother."

Remta was observing them with satisfaction. He nodded and took a sip from his own mug before speaking. "I was hoping you would do the right thing and decide to tell us. I think you had better fill us in on the details."

The dwarves both looked at him in consternation. "The _details_? Yeh knew about it?" Kellig asked in disbelief. "Did all of yeh know all along?"

"No," Remta replied. "Only myself. You couldn't expect me to bring you here among my people without first checking my sources in Shattrath to be certain you were not a danger."

Kellig groaned and swiped a hand down his face, then took a deep breath as if preparing himself for a dive. "A'right. T'ain't a tale that makes me proud to tell. Me wife and I, see, we've always been peaceful folk. Tully never has seen fighting for herself, thank the Light, and my days as a fighter are long through. Ever since I swore off that life, I only have made armor with me smithin'; no weapons. We're tired of the fighting with the Horde, to no end and no purpose but more and more killed and more destruction every day. We didna want ta put ourselves ta work making things ta end other people's lives, and we were none too shy about sayin' as much.

"Well, as I said, me brother's an advisor to King Magni on matters o' war. And me brother gets it inta his hard head one day that he can increase his favor with the king by recommending me and Tully ta make the king a special mace. Now, I've told him time and again we don't make weapons anymore. I reminded him o' that little fact, and I refused the commission. My brother, bein' who he is, can't just let it lie, but has ta rage and fume at me and make a big blow-up about it. So it isna long then before people hear about it and they get ta talkin' about it in certain nasty circles o' Ironforge. Suddenly I've not just refused a commission from me brother, I've openly defied the king. Suddenly I'm not just mindin' me own business making armor for the Alliance, I'm helping the Horde by refusing to make weapons. And then suddenly I'm making weapons secretly and runnin' a regular Horde supply depot right out o' me smithy in the middle o' Dun Morogh!" Kellig's dark eyes glittered with anger and he glared around the room.

"So we left," he said. "We left all that. Anyen won't grow up around that lot o' fools with their big mouths and small brains. We're finished with the Alliance and I canna say I'm sorry for it."

Remta's brow furrowed and he glanced at Kereth, who was sitting with her head bowed in thought. "There is no shame in that tale," he finally said. Kereth nodded in agreement and smiled at Tully.

"I think you have come to the right place for peace," the Broken woman said. "But if you do stay, you will be expected to deal courteously with Horde as well as Alliance."

"You must carefully consider if you are willing to accept all the implications of the peace you claim to want," Remta said. "It isn't a decision to be made lightly. You will have to demonstrate that you can look beyond faction to the individual."

"Ach, we understand that," Kellig replied. "Yer right, it isn't somethin' ta be entered lightly, for you or for us. 'Tis an adjustment, to be sure, being here in Outland. I canna say we were prepared for it. We'd be grateful if you'd give us a little time ta consider and observe and prove ourselves here."

"We'll willingly give you that," Remta nodded. "A fair chance to show us who you are and what you are capable of."

The dwarf smiled dourly. "I feel as though I'm a lad again waitin' for me instructor to test me. Was it this way for your emissary here?"

"She came to us before we had opened ourselves to the rest of the world," Remta answered. "She and Galmak helped us make contact with the Mag'har. So you might say her 'test' was of a different nature."

"There's no test quite like walking into Orgrimmar, either," Hyara said with a smile. Kereth laughed lightly; Kellig and Tully only stared at her in disbelief.

"In any case, whether you stay and join us or no, you are welcome here," Lertu said in his quiet voice. Hyara had been told a few things about him that made her think he must be at least as old as her grandfather. Remta valued his steady, soft-spoken wisdom and often consulted him on matters important and trivial, so it was no surprise he'd been asked here tonight to observe.

"We thank yeh," Kellig said with obvious relief. "We'll give our best, yeh can be sure."

Tully nodded in accordance with her husband, and then with an effort she looked up and faced Galmak squarely. "I hope ta learn yer not an enemy," she managed before dropping her eyes.

Galmak didn't say anything; he didn't want to push his luck. But nevertheless he grinned and nodded, wondering if maybe he didn't look quite so scary after all.

* * *


	17. II: Visitor

* * *

For the first time in its history, the clang of hammer on anvil rang in the cleft of Karkun Kamil. Though the village had never had a blacksmith of its own, some of the accoutrements of the trade had been among the first shipments of general supplies brought in from Garadar and Telaar in anticipation that they would one day be needed. They had gone unused and nearly forgotten for a year, but Jartom, motivated by the need for armor repairs, had remembered and managed to dig them out of storage. The forge had been a trickier matter and was crude at best, but Kellig declared it would suffice for the time being and he had gone straight to work with relish.

"I havena held a hammer in a month and by the Makers but it feels good again!" he declared. Tully smiled, cradling Anyen and watching her husband work with a resigned look in her eye.

"Maybe he'll give you a turn," Hyara said skeptically. Kellig looked unlikely to surrender his hammer and tongs any time soon.

"He might," the dwarf responded. "But I wouldna hold out hope for it. A stubborn old ram, that man is."

It had been a week now since the construction of the forge and Kellig hadn't slowed down. Tully, it turned out, was far better at some of the more delicate work and she took over for him when her skills were better suited to a task. When it was safe, she sometimes worked with Anyen strapped to her back and peering over her shoulder, watching with wide green eyes.

The Kanrethad's guards had been having their armor repaired at Garadar and Telaar before the dwarves' arrival and they were no strangers to waiting weeks to get pieces back from repairs, so it was an unexpected luxury to find their armor suddenly good as new and ready for wear within days of the forge's construction. Kellig worked seemingly tirelessly into the darkness, stopping only when Kereth tactfully suggested that the noise might be bothering some in the village. Most of Karkun Kamil had at first regarded the dwarf family's frantic industry with mild amusement, but it soon became clear that they knew what they were about and they were good at it. Amusement had quickly turned to appreciation.

A more peripheral, but no less welcome, benefit of putting Kellig to work had been the improvement in his attitude. Despite the trepidation he'd expressed to Galmak, he hardly appeared to notice now that he was surrounded by Broken. He sometimes spoke to Horde without even realizing it, keeping such a sharp eye on his work that the fact that he was conversing with a Forsaken or a sin'dorei was utterly lost on him. Trolls he still noticed; he'd declared their accented Common atrocious, when they spoke it at all. Anyone who didn't speak Common earned a scowl and frenzied hand gestures, as if he were annoyed at the delay in taking on new work. But with a hammer in hand and an anvil in front of him, Kellig seemed able to speak jovially with nearly anyone who could understand him.

Galmak found himself doing just about anything that needed doing around the village, along with Hyara. One day they'd be helping harvest vegetables from the cliff's little garden plots, and the next they might be sitting in on a faction-related dispute, helping Remta resolve the problem. The orc found that Remta liked having him around to help out in those situations, given his standing within the Horde: it often helped resolve a dispute when a Horde citizen heard a voice of reason coming from a fellow member of his or her own faction. Although he had no official duties here, Galmak liked the arrangement just fine. He felt he had the best of both worlds, in a way; he could help his wife's faction as well as his own without any conflict of interest.

But it wasn't all work all the time. Galmak and Hyara often climbed the path out of the cleft for quiet hunting trips with Palla and Gink. It gave them a chance to escape on their own and relax, away not only from the worries of the Kanrethad, but also away from the need to disguise the intimacy of the bond.

"You can hardly even see the nether tonight," Hyara breathed. It was a windy night on the plains with swollen clouds scudding high across the sky, obscuring the luminous trails of purple and blue. Every now and then the nether would flash through in a brief ribbon that lit the grass and trees with a faint eerie glow before the clouds closed in and faded everything to blackness again.

"I don't think it'll rain though," Galmak whispered back, lying down beside her on the bedroll and gazing up at the sky between the leaves of the tree spreading above them. "Just feels wrong for rain." There had been a time not so long ago when he could have known for sure beyond what his hunter's instincts told him, but he let that thought slip away before it could fully form.

Hyara nodded and tucked her blanket to enclose him too. Gink and Palla prowled nearby in the high grass, keeping watch as they did some hunting of their own. There was no campfire tonight; the wind was too high and every blown spark was at risk of starting a grassfire.

They lay silently, watching the clouds. Nights like this always seemed to be a bit of a trial somehow for Galmak. It was as if the wildness in the land, the darkness, the feeling of flowing energy around him brought closer to the surface the need to let a little of his own restrained energy flow. It sickened him but at the same time beckoned with an attraction utterly different from anything he'd felt from the elements.

"How long do you want to stay?" Hyara asked on a sudden whim.

He knew she meant their time at Karkun Kamil. "I hadn't thought about leaving yet," he answered with a shrug. "We have no other plans, nowhere else we need to go for now, unless Remta wants to send you someplace else. And here we're far away from… Well, we're just far." There was a tightening in her sense at what she thought he would say next and he left it at that, knowing she understood.

Her mood had turned now though, perhaps fueled by the lonely wildness of the night and the open spaces around them. It was hard to believe that this bond had any kinship to the bond she'd shared so briefly with Teyagah; hard to believe that it was the same in nature and different only because of their love and Galmak's intentions. All that dwelled in the back of Hyara's mind, unexpressed. She knew Galmak thought of it too sometimes and she knew it pained him; it had pained him a year ago just to see an iron collar around her neck even when there was no truth behind it.

"Why did she do it, Galmak?" Hyara asked softly.

He hadn't been prepared for that question; he'd grown accustomed to the silence they both preferred to keep on that topic. Galmak gave her a squeeze and let her feel his sorrow.

"No. I want to know," she said. "How can you be so good, and your mother, and then… her." She shook her head and a horn jabbed his arm. More than anything else, he felt astonishment in her right now, but he knew it was only a thin skin over her deep hurt. He felt that way too. His grandmother, his own flesh and blood.

"I don't know, love," he said gently and kissed her forehead. "I keep telling myself undeath changed her. I don't know if that's a lie or not. There may be no reason we'd ever understand even if we knew it." It chilled him to wonder if somehow that horrible malice lurked in his own blood. Had he uncovered the beginnings of it when he'd made that choice in the Barrens all those weeks ago?

"Never think that," Hyara said fiercely, startling him out of his grim thoughts. "You're nothing like her. Or… or at least you're nothing like the bad in her."

Galmak snorted incredulously. "The _bad_ in her? I didn't see anything else."

Hyara didn't answer, but instead made an abrupt effort to turn her mind away toward more pleasant avenues. She traced her fingers down his chest and pressed closer to him, squeezing his leg in her thighs and nipping his earlobe. She felt his arousal growing and she let the feel of him wash over her and mingle with her own thoughts. He was warm, always warm and bright inside her and there was nothing like the feeling of being with him; she barely noticed the chilly wind sliding over her body. They took it slowly tonight, wrapped more in comfort and closeness than in passion, savoring every moment and letting the bond reflect it all. Afterward Hyara lay still on top of him with his arms enclosing her, feeling as if nothing else mattered at least for a while.

* * *

"I don't see why this isn't different," Jartom said with narrowed eyes that held a glimmer of irritation. "For defensive reasons–"

"No weapons!" Kellig roared over the hiss of steam. He spun around and stomped away from the makeshift slack tub full of river water and leaned back to glare up at the Broken towering above him. "It isna different, I won't be makin' weapons for no purpose, and yeh can jus' forget about convincin' me ta violate me principles!"

"Then you'd have us go unarmed and defenseless against those who would kill us, and your family, I might add, given half a chance," Jartom spat. Remta stood silently nearby; he had anticipated this confrontation sooner or later.

The dwarf's face screwed up into a ferocious frown at that and he slammed his tongs down onto the anvil. "I wouldna have anybody going defenseless, but by the gods, I won't put me name to another weapon in me life. I'll repair what you've got, but damn me if I'll make yeh anything new. I willna compromise on that."

Remta breathed an inward sigh of relief and nodded minutely to his captain of the guard.

"Agreed," Jartom said through clenched teeth and stalked back toward the village.

Remta nodded silently to Kellig and followed. It was a less-than-convenient arrangement, certainly, but somehow the Broken felt as if a weight had lifted from his shoulders. He thought perhaps that the elements would have cried out against weapons being made in a place that called itself Hidden Peace.

* * *

No one even noticed the newcomers at first. The Kanrethad had grown accustomed by now to having all sorts of people passing in and out of town with varying degrees of interaction with the residents, staying a night, staying an hour, buying at the market or keeping utterly to themselves. So when a band of Alliance rode down into the cleft, the guards gave them a casual once-over and then put them out of mind; they were no more heavily armed or armored than most of those who visited the cleft. What was unusual though, and what eventually drew notice, was the prolonged silence from Kellig's hammer and the shouting that followed.

Galmak and Remta had been trying for the past half hour, with little success, to talk a troll out of the need to allow his pet snake free reign of the inn. Na'grok wasn't being much of a help; he personally didn't see the problem unless it got into the kitchen. He'd made it clear there'd be a new kind of stew for dinner if it did, and left it at that.

" 'E's just a leetle thing. 'E's gotta have 'is freedom, ya know?" the troll protested with a conspiratorial look at Galmak.

"Perhaps he'd have better freedom outside," Remta said dryly. "We have other residents here who have complained."

"If I find it coiled in my helm again, I won't be so nice next time," said a nearby human who'd been trying not to look as if he were eavesdropping on the Orcish conversation. The troll gave him a wicked smile and let the snake unwind from his arm to hiss at the human.

"Outside is better for him anyway," Galmak reasoned. "And after all, you don't see my wolf running around in here. I think you'd at least better keep him with you when he's inside, like that –" Galmak pointed at the snake on the man's arm, " – if you want him to stay safe with all the people around. Not everyone'll know he isn't poisonous and doesn't deserve the business end of a sword."

The troll snorted indignantly. " 'Oo says he isn't–"

But that was when the shouting began echoing down the cleft. Galmak and Remta exchanged a puzzled look and left the troll standing in the inn. All seemed normal from what they could see in the village, aside from the others who had stopped to stare in the direction of the shouting, but the two men lost no time jogging across the green toward the forge outside of town.

Kellig had company at the forge.

"Just like yeh too, yeh rotten bastard, not ta leave us well enough alone!" he was roaring, his hands balled into fists and waving wildly at the air for punctuation. Another dwarf stood in front of him a safe distance away, a smug smile stretching across his face. His hair, beard, and heavy brows were dark as Kellig's and the resemblance was unmistakable, but where the smith wore plain clothes covered by a rough leather apron, this new dwarf wore rich brown robes embroidered in gold thread and looked like he'd never seen a day of hard labor in his life.

"An' now this!" Kellig jabbed his finger at the eight other dwarves accompanying the man in the brown robes. "Yeh got the balls ta think you have the authority ta come out here–"

"Oh, but I do, brother!" the dwarf growled. "On the king's authority–"

"King's authority, my ass! What lies did yeh tell him, eh?"

"Ah, no," said a quiet voice from behind Galmak, almost a wail. He glanced over his shoulder to see Tully with Anyen hugged in her arms.

"Kellig, suppose you introduce us," Remta said. Kellig jumped and the dwarves turned to notice him, Galmak, and Tully for the first time now.

"Me brother, Daravan," Kellig spat. "Grand and mighty advisor, or summat such horseshit, ta King Magni Bronzebeard o' Ironforge." He looked disinclined to finish the introduction, so Remta took over.

"I am Remta of the Kanrethad. Welcome to Karkun Kamil, which means Hidden Peace in the draenei tongue," he said carefully. "You have traveled a long way; what brings you here?"

Daravan's eyes narrowed and his bulbous nose wrinkled in a slight sneer. "Interestin' choice me brother picked fer friends. I'm here ta bring 'im back where he belongs and I want no trouble about it, though looks as if I'll be gettin' it anyway." He grinned at his brother. "Yeh might want ta reconsider coming with me, brother. Me orders are ta bring ya, whether yer walkin' on yer own two feet or no."

Kellig told his brother to go do something rather nasty and Remta stepped forward so that he was now looking squarely down at Daravan. The Broken's face was utterly impassive.

"Am I to understand that you are here to arrest Kellig, Advisor Marver?" he asked quietly.

"Aye, tha's right," Daravan replied with a toothy smile. "And his wife too, on the same charges o' treason against the king and the Alliance."

Remta looked up and stared away across the cleft for a moment before sighing and shaking his head. "I'm afraid I can't allow that at this time," he finally said. Galmak heard weariness and resignation in his voice.

Daravan stared up at him in momentary disbelief, but then his face darkened like a stormy sky and his voice emerged in a growl. "Yeh don't have anything ta say about it, Broken. Yer interferin' with official royal decree."

"That may be so, but Kellig and Tully's arrest would be interfering with the official business of the Kanrethad. They are under consideration for acceptance into our ranks and we cannot allow them to leave until a decision has been reached."

"Yer not serious!" Daravan screamed in outrage. "Yeh meddling, deformed, blue-skinned mule! Why, I'll… the king'll…" he spat incoherently and seemed about to signal to his guards, but he glanced around and suddenly became aware that his own forces no longer outnumbered the rest of them. Jartom was now standing a few strides away looking formidable in glinting plate armor, and a handful of his forces were encircling the group.

"We will hold further discussion of this at your earliest convenience tomorrow, Daravan. In the meantime, you are welcome to stay here or anywhere else you choose." With a jerk of his head to Kellig to join him, Remta turned and walked back toward the village. Kellig, Tully, and Galmak all followed him with Jartom and his guards close behind, leaving Daravan seething at the forge.

"Thank yeh," Kellig said hoarsely.

Remta glanced down at him. "You shouldn't thank me yet, Kellig. I have only bought you some time for now, and bought my own people a great deal of trouble, I think." He sighed. "I had hoped this sort of confrontation wouldn't come until we were better able to handle it. As it is, I don't know if we are ready. We may not yet be able to stand firm if he brings the diplomatic might of the Alliance to bear, or Light forfend, the military might. If it comes to that, we will have no choice but to back down instantly. I suppose we will discover just how eager your king is to indulge your brother's vendetta."

Kellig and Tully looked stricken and seemed unable to respond. Galmak stared grimly ahead, feeling Hyara responding to his agitation somewhere at the northeast end of the cleft and quickly coming closer.

"You believe it's worth it?" Galmak asked, merely for pragmatic reasons. His own feelings were clear enough; he admired Remta's decision to harbor two innocent people from spiteful and seemingly groundless accusations.

The Broken glanced at him and nodded. "Sooner or later we must prove ourselves a truly independent people who won't roll over on command for either the Horde or the Alliance. We make our own decisions and I won't allow any of our citizens, prospective or actual, to be arrested on nebulous charges within our own village without first investigating the matter." He looked up briefly at the angle of the light slanting into the upper reaches of the cleft; it was late afternoon now, moving toward dusk.

"Come to the meeting hall in half an hour, all of you. Galmak, please find Hyara. Jartom, I would appreciate it if you would find Lertu," Remta said and strode away toward Kereth's house.

* * *

The air in the meeting hall buzzed with restrained tension. The eight people gathered there settled themselves silently on cushions in one corner of the room and waited for Remta to speak first. Galmak had filled Hyara in on everything that had occurred at the forge and now they all presumably had to decide what to do about it.

Remta looked around the little circle and then spoke. "Firstly, I think Kellig and Tully had better give us their best assessment of what motivations are behind Daravan's pursuit of them and what exactly they would guess his accusations to be."

Kellig scowled and picked absently at the fringe on his cushion. Tully, who had once again left Anyen in the capable hands of Kereth's friend, patted her husband's arm gently and whispered a few soft words to him in Dwarven.

"Me brother's the avaricious, ambitious sort," Kellig said in a tired voice. "I told yeh that certain circles in Ironforge got ta talkin' about us. It's likely that the gossip started ta hit a little too close ta home and me brother feels he needs to lay it to rest if he wants to maintain his favor with the king. Maybe he thinks haulin' us in will earn him favor or at least stop the tongues wagging. And I imagine he's basing his accusations o' treason on the rumors of us helpin' the Horde. Haven't the foggiest how he's goin' ta prove that one, or even if he's goin' ta try."

"And do the laws of Ironforge allow him to make this arrest?" Remta asked.

"If he's really managed ta get his mitts on an order from the king, that's the law," Kellig growled.

"Our own policy is that we make the arrests here," Remta said. Jartom nodded grim agreement. "Even if you were not under consideration for citizenship among my people, he would still be obliged to prove to us that the arrest should be made. It is my opinion that we should stand by that and, given the consideration for citizenship, we must also go a step further to extend some measure of protection to the Marvers," the Broken said, looking around the circle of people.

Lertu nodded. "We cannot allow the Alliance to order us around in our own home. Not out of pride," he said with a mildly admonishing look at Jartom. "But because it would set a dangerous precedent. We govern ourselves and others' laws hold sway here only insofar as they do not conflict with our own."

Hyara listened in silence as they spoke. No matter how much she told herself she belonged here, she still couldn't help but feel like something of an outsider in some ways, and this situation only underscored that. She hadn't come here with unpleasant baggage the way the Marvers had – or at least nothing that had been known to the Alliance, she corrected herself – but nevertheless her entire way of life wasn't invested here in this cleft. Considering that fact, she didn't feel she had much of a right to help decide anything about this situation. She felt eyes on her and looked over to realize that Kereth was watching her.

"Hyara," the woman said. "I think you will be a great help in this if Daravan decides to argue with us. You know the ways of the Alliance."

"I'll do whatever I can," she replied uneasily. "But… but I'm not very familiar with the ways of the dwarves."

"Moreso than the rest of the Kanrethad," Remta pointed out. "In any case, we'll hope that Daravan will bluster a bit and satisfy his ego, and then return home to leave the Marvers in peace."

"Yeh don't know me brother," Kellig muttered, but he seemed a bit heartened by all the talk.

They all went their separate ways that night, having decided on a mid-morning meeting with Daravan. Hyara left a message with Na'grok for the dwarf, informing him of the time, and then followed Galmak wearily into their room.

"Why so worn out?" he asked in concern as she sunk down onto the bed.

"I just feel… jittery," she answered with a shrug. "Nervous and worried. I don't like the idea of them relying on me to give them insight into dwarven politics, which I know absolutely nothing about." She made a face and sighed.

"I don't think they expect that, love. They just want some insight into the Alliance as a whole, and since you're their emissary to Azeroth… But that's not all that's bothering you, is it." He looked at her shrewdly.

Hyara looked down at her lap, unable to hide her feelings from him but feeling guilty enough to want to hide her face. "I suppose not," she said in a small voice.

"You don't like the idea that it might come down to defying the Alliance."

"It's stupid, isn't it? I'm supposed to be neutral now, I'm betraying the Kanrethad _and_ you to feel that way, and it's not as if I haven't defied the Alliance in the past…"

"You're not betraying me or anyone else. I admire you for sacrificing what you did so we'd have an easier time of it. You saved me from having to make that leap." He grinned sheepishly and ran his fingers through her silver-blonde hair. "I don't think anybody can blame you for still feeling some of that old loyalty, love. But knowing you, I also know you'll be fair-minded about all this and do your best for the Kanrethad."

"Well, of course," she said with a slight frown. "I know who's right in all this, I just wish I didn't feel a little bit guilty…"

He chuckled and tugged her tail, making her squeak and jab him playfully in the ribs, and then it all degenerated from there until they were too tired to do anything but fall asleep contentedly.

* * *

Daravan and several of his escort swaggered into the meeting hall the next morning, barely even deigning to sneer at everyone else who was already gathered there. A table and chairs had been brought in for the occasion, since Remta had decided that sitting on cushions on the floor might feel a bit too informal and would likely only give Daravan one more thing to sniff disdainfully at.

Galmak was there despite the fact that he had no official position in the Kanrethad and therefore no official reason to expect to be present. As he'd told Remta, it would have to be good enough that his official reason for being there was moral support for Hyara, whom he knew was more nervous than she let on to everyone else. The Broken had smiled one of his small, grave smiles and agreed with a knowing glance at the young draenei who was, as usual, looking uncomfortable in the emerald robes she'd donned for the occasion. Galmak had made a minor effort to press out some of the wrinkles in his shirt, but that was about as far as he was willing to go for a crotchety, egotistical dwarf. He quietly took a seat against the wall close behind Hyara and settled in for some observation.

"Now," Daravan began, folding his hands across his belly and leaning back in his chair as if he were a king holding court. "I suppose we're here ta satisfy yer urge ta feel as if you've done your duty." He gave Remta a condescending smile. "Ya've impressed me with yer honor and I'd like ta thank you fer doin' your best to harbor me brother, but now for his own good and the good o' the kingdom of Ironforge, I'll be obliged if you'll hand 'em over."

Remta gave him a tight smile. "I think you have misunderstood us, Daravan. We are not putting on an empty show; I have asked you here to give you the chance to convince us that the Kanrethad should arrest Kellig and Tully. We make the arrests here, and we only make them based on proof or excellent hearsay. We will not arrest them unless you convince us it is necessary, and they will not leave Karkun Kamil with you unless we have arrested them."

The dwarf's face reddened and he looked for a moment as if he were about to open his mouth and start yelling, but he contained himself with a visible effort and took a long pull of air between his teeth.

Remta used the dwarf's momentary silence to start the meeting off more properly. "This is Kereth," he said. "Who is also a leader of our people, and Hyara, our emissary to the peoples of Azeroth."

"An' who's the orc?" Daravan scowled over Hyara's shoulder at Galmak.

"He is Hyara's husband, Galmak Bloodscry, here as an observer."

The dwarf wrinkled his nose. "Ya've got all these people here with ya, but it's just me on my lonesome. I think I may need more time ta prepare for this," he said slyly.

_You seemed well-prepared enough to arrest them_, Hyara thought snidely and glared at him because she knew he wasn't paying her any attention. Daravan seemed completely focused on Remta, even ignoring his brother now, as if he were in a private stand-off with the Broken.

"You must have good, clear reasons for the arrest, Daravan. We'd like to hear them," she said sweetly. Remta raised an eyebrow at the dwarf in agreement and looked at him expectantly. Daravan's face had reddened and his brows had scrunched down into a bushy hedge over his eyes. He looked slowly around the table at them all, stopping a moment longer on her as if deciding to notice her for the first time, and then abruptly his brain seemed to switch gears.

"Yer right," he said in a rueful growl. "I got meself worked into a bit of a fit over this an' it's gettin' nobody nowhere. Let's start again, shall we? I came with the intention o' arrestin' me brother and his wife. I see now that it isna so simple anymore. I'd appreciate it if yeh could apprise me o' the situation here. Yer laws, yeh said, don't allow me the authority? I want ta make sure I understand all o' this clearly."

"You understand that correctly," Remta nodded. "We are an autonomous faction in Outland with our own laws. It is our law that we do not allow outside forces to make arrests within our territory. The situation is further complicated by the fact that we are considering Kellig and Tully for citizenship. Naturally, we must protect our own people."

"Naturally," Daravan drawled. "Ironforge does the same fer its own. We make sure we got the right person when we decide ta bring someone in. Now, yeh asked fer me reasons." He nodded his head in a bow toward Hyara. "An' I'll tell yeh as best I can, but try ta understand that some o' this is unfinished business and I canna compromise any, ah, state secrets."

"Hm," Remta nodded noncommittally, but Hyara noticed his eyes narrow ever so slightly as if in suspicion.

"Kellig and his wife are strongly suspected of sympathizin' with and helpin' the Horde."

"Yeh low-down, rotten, lyin' bastard–" Kellig began, but Remta held up a hand and he fell silent.

"They have already admitted that you believed that. They've also said they can't see how you could have proof of it," the Broken said.

"Here's where we come dangerously close ta state secrets." Daravan pursed his thick lips and gazed down thoughtfully at his hands clasped on his paunch. "You, I can speak to, but I'm afraid I canna speak in present company."

"Kellig and Tully have a right to know what you will say, Daravan," Remta said firmly.

"Ach, no." The dwarf leaned in conspiratorially. "Yeh must understand we're in the presence of Horde and someone whom some in the Alliance consider a traitor."

Hyara felt suddenly as if she'd been kicked in the gut. Galmak stirred behind her and she reflexively held down a hand where he could see her signal below the table, urging him to be still. She could feel anger burning slowly hotter in him, warring with her own stirrings of shame and hurt.

"I find it hard to believe that many in the Alliance consider my actions at all," she said coolly.

Daravan grinned unpleasantly. "No, no indeed, lass; ye've got that right. Yer not worth botherin' over ta most people, but there are a few who know and a few who don't look kindly upon it. The sorts o' people whose business it is ta know such things, if yeh take my meanin'. Yer a bit cozy with the Horde, see. Who knows what sorts o' things yeh might reveal with yer skirts hiked up around yer ears." He laughed as if he'd said something clever.

Remta and Kereth were both staring at him now as if at a dead and smelly something that had just shown up on the floor. Remta rose slowly and stood looking down at Daravan from his full height.

"I think you have finished presenting your 'proof' now, Advisor Marver. The Kanrethad request that you and your escort leave Karkun Kamil at once."

"Throwin' me out are yeh?" the dwarf said. The grin hadn't left his face and he looked surprisingly unconcerned. Remta only continued to stare at him coldly and Daravan shrugged and hauled himself to his feet. "Ye'll wish yeh hadn't, that I promise."

Hyara felt suddenly sick and she scowled down at the table as the dwarf stumped his way out of the meeting hall with Remta following, no doubt to inform Jartom and his guards that the dwarf was no longer welcome. She knew no one was staring at her, but she could almost feel them thinking about what Daravan had said. She was considered a traitor, just as her grandfather had tried to warn her nearly a year ago. And all she'd done to earn it had been to fall in love. Galmak's hand squeezed her shoulder and she reached up to grasp it. Remta came back inside a few minutes later and stood before the table, head bowed and pale brow furrowed.

"We haven't seen the last of him," Galmak said grimly.

"No indeed," Remta answered. "I don't believe he ever intended to even try to prove anything to us; it's obvious by now that he has no proof. He must have known we wouldn't surrender Kellig and Tully based on anything he could tell us. I think his real intention in this meeting was to be thrown out, and he would have gotten that sooner or later, so I chose sooner to save us all further insult and trouble. For now, that is." He sighed and Kereth crossed the room to lay a comforting hand on his arm.

"We never meant to put yeh all in the middle of something like this," Kellig said in a pained voice. "Didna have any idea he'd actually come after us… We thought we were leavin' our home behind forever without a… a backward glance and we never had a notion me brother'd try and drag us back."

"Perhaps we should get ourselves off yer hands," Tully ventured sadly.

"I'm sure we can handle him, whatever he has planned," Kereth soothed.

"I don't know if we can," Hyara said in a small voice. She looked up and locked eyes with Remta, and she could tell that he was thinking the same thing. "It might be better if I left, at least. The charges against Kellig and Tully might be trumped up and ridiculous, but…" She dropped her eyes back to her lap.

Galmak growled behind her, making Tully jump where she sat across the table from them. His eyes glittered dangerously as he looked over at Remta, but he didn't say anything. The Kanrethad would have to make their own decision and it wasn't for him to force anything. Could they go to Orgrimmar? Perhaps the Horde would take her as a defector… The thought made him feel sick and he knew Hyara would never agree to that. Exodar? Velen might protect her. But perhaps not if it came to resisting pressure from his allies. Galmak also knew Hyara would never even consider putting the Prophet in that position. He squeezed her shoulder again and did his best to keep his own feelings calm and steady for her.

"We protect our own," Remta said. His voice was quiet but it held deadly determination. "Kellig and Tully, you can expect a decision on your acceptance by this evening. Hyara, you are one of the Kanrethad. You do not have permission to leave Karkun Kamil at this time; you are needed here. Galmak, I would appreciate it if you would take it upon yourself to see that she does nothing rash." Remta's lips twitched in a slight smile and Galmak smiled a bit too, remembering how Hyara had first encountered the Kanrethad. Remta strode from the room without another word and Kereth followed him after sending a glance between Hyara and Galmak.

"Yer no more a traitor than we are, lass," Kellig said gruffly and then he and Tully also left.

"You heard what he said," Galmak said once they were alone. "They wouldn't be much of a faction if they didn't back their own people when push came to shove. You've served them; now they'll get the chance to help you out."

"It's more than helping me out, they'll be putting themselves in danger over this. I'd hoped this might never happen. I… I suspected that's why Remta sent me to Exodar. He knew Velen would receive me as one of his own people, not as someone who'd married an enemy and left the Alliance." Hyara was fighting to hold back the sick worry that, despite her best efforts, was growing stronger by the minute.

Galmak pulled her chair away from the table and knelt in front of her, taking her hands. "Hyara, look at me. You're not a traitor, whatever anyone with their own malicious agenda might say. He's the traitor, for stirring up trouble for the Alliance when it wasn't even justified, just so he can get the better of his own brother. I want you to stop thinking there's any truth in what he said." He flashed her a sudden grin. "And I'll know if you don't."

She returned the smile and squeezed his hands, feeling her stomach calming slightly. "Anyone who can't understand _why_ I did it… Galmak, I would do everything all over again if I had to to be with you."

He was about to reply when the feeling behind what she'd said caught up with him. _Everything_, and she meant it. Gods, sometimes it scared him how much they loved each other.

The rest of the day was full of subdued preparations and worried murmurings among the villagers. No one knew exactly what they were preparing for, but Remta made sure that Na'grok knew to keep extra rooms available in the inn indefinitely and Kellig went to work with a fury repairing every remaining piece of damaged armor as fast as Jartom and his guards could bring it in. There was to be no fighting, Remta firmly asserted, but apprehension still hung heavy in the air and tainted the usual peace of the cleft. Even some of the travelers who passed through regularly and were familiar with Karkun Kamil's tranquil atmosphere could sense that something different was brewing.

Remta met with Kereth, Lertu, and others of the townsfolk over the course of the day and then in the late afternoon the whole village gathered in the middle of town for the announcement that the Kanrethad would be welcoming three new citizens. Hyara felt bad that the dwarves' joy and relief at their acceptance had to be tempered with apprehension of what Daravan had planned.

"No backing out now," Galmak said softly, watching Kellig striding proudly back to the smithy with Tully and Anyen when it was all over. He had to admire the Kanrethad's steadfast conviction that they were doing the right thing, even though it meant they had a rocky path ahead of them in the immediate future.

"No," Hyara agreed with a sigh, rubbing her forehead.

Galmak gave her a sideways glare and snorted. "I thought I told you to stop thinking about all that. You're not going anywhere, woman."

She only smiled, grateful for his support, and let him wrap his arms around her.

Galmak was restless that night and couldn't sleep for hours after he'd laid down. He'd kept calm and quiet until he'd felt Hyara at last drift to sleep beside him, wrapped in the muddled emotions that accompanied harmless dreams, but then his brain had kicked into high gear. He was tired and he wished he could just make himself fall asleep, but his mind had other ideas. When would Daravan return and what sorts of surprises might he bring with him? The memory of the look on the dwarf's face when he'd insulted Hyara made Galmak frown ferociously in the darkness. Daravan's true targets might be Kellig and Tully, but it seemed safe to assume that they wouldn't be the only ones who got hurt if things went badly. It was all a jumbled mess now and the Kanrethad were so ill-prepared to handle a conflict with a major power like the Alliance…

The bedroom looked like it had gone hazy. Galmak sat up in alarm, sniffing the air for the smell of smoke, and before he even realized what he was doing he reached out to search for fire with the powers he'd vowed never to use. He'd be able to find it quickly like this if it were there, and even his own mother had pledged herself to use her powers in defense of those she loved… But then he realized he hadn't really sat up and the room wasn't actually filling with smoke. He swore silently. With guilt and disgust he severed the connection he'd just made with the side of himself he dreaded, as the room entirely dissolved in fog and he felt a familiar heaviness settle on his ears. _This place again, dammit_. He'd dared to think he might have shaken it forever, with only bare snatches and hints of the awful dream following him out of the Aerie Peaks and back through the Dark Portal. _Now I'm finally asleep and all I can wish is to be awake again_, he thought wryly.

The usual low hum of whispers was there again, but somehow Galmak sensed that something was different this time. His dream-self cocked his head in a reflexive gesture of listening, trying to distinguish what it was that had drawn his attention. The whispers, the fog, the eerie heaviness were all the same. He stood for a moment only feeling and examining his surroundings. Then he caught his breath in a sudden stab of realization and he grinned. This dream would do what he wanted now; he could sense it. He'd been contending with it for months now, worrying over it, trying to discover the meaning, wishing never to see this place again. There was, therefore, absolutely no doubt in his mind about what he wanted from this dream – he wanted it gone. With a flick of his mind and without another thought to the place, Galmak banished it all and sunk into quiet, dark sleep.

* * *


	18. II: Persistence Pays Off

* * *

**A/N**: Really, y'all, thanks for reviewing. It warms mah poor lil' heart. Now... check out this chapter! WEWT! An update on my birthday. ;)

* * *

Although a pall of unease settled on the cleft in the days following Daravan's ominous exit, Kereth at least seemed immune to the general mood. She cheerfully reminded everyone that they had three new citizens in their midst who deserved a better welcome than she felt they'd gotten so far. Anyen was a source of constant wonder to her and she had developed a miraculous rapport with him; it wasn't long before Tully was allowing her to look after him and the baby sometimes seemed happier in Kereth's arms than with anyone but his mother. Hyara had to smile a bit sadly when Kereth took delight in Anyen's every move – she would have made a good mother if the Light had willed it. Perhaps she _had_ made a good mother. Hyara almost asked her once but she lost her nerve, knowing how much pain that question might cause Kereth.

"I believe he's grown even since you arrived," Kereth said to Tully one day. They and Hyara were all three helping out with the herbs again, sitting on the floor in the meeting hall culling fresh bundles of dreaming glory while Saluu, the herbalist, bustled in and out from the nearby herb drying shed. Hyara liked the light, soft smell and it seemed to soothe the headaches she'd been getting lately.

Tully ran a thoughtful eye over her son in the Broken woman's arms and smiled. "Maybe grown a wee bit in the belly. Eats like a young wolf, he does." Anyen cooed and held a fist out to his mother in reply. His hair had certainly grown – it was thicker and darker than ever now, more like his father's every day.

"He'll be a year very soon, won't he?" Kereth asked.

"Aye," Tully said. "Less than two more months now. All too soon we'll be worryin' about him up and walking away."

Hyara smiled, watching Anyen wave his tiny fists in the air as he bounced gently on Kereth's knee. How good it would be, to have a baby of her own… For a moment she indulged in that thought, imagining what it would be like to tell Galmak the news, how it would feel to be a mother, how it would be for them to raise a child together. He would be a father, and what a wonderful father he would make.

"Hyara," said Kereth's voice, and she snapped back from her thoughts.

"That's a grin if ever I saw one," Tully said with a shy, sideways grin of her own.

Hyara blushed and bent her head over her piles of herbs. "I was just… just thinking," she mumbled.

Kereth was staring at her wide-eyed though. "Hyara… you aren't…?"

The draenei looked up and shook her head firmly, alarmed that she'd given Kereth that idea. "No, no. I was just thinking, that's all."

"Wishing," Kereth said softly and smiled as Anyen wrapped a fist around her finger.

More than a week passed peacefully with the dwarves settling into their new lives. Galmak and Hyara were among the group who volunteered to help the Marvers start construction of a new little house at one edge of the village, just upstream from the smithy. Kellig sighed loudly that he wished it could be built of solid, sturdy stone as their house had been in Kharanos, but their first priority for the time being was simply to have their own home, and Tully assured him in her firm, quiet way that a wooden house was as sturdy as they could wish for and would be a fine home for Anyen to grow up in.

The mood was light to match the warm, golden day as they finished framing up the walls and took a mid-day break to eat a meal and admire their handiwork. The construction was progressing quickly with so many hands to help, and Tully was already planning the celebratory meal she'd cook for everyone once the family had moved into their cozy little house. The project had almost been enough to make them all forget Daravan's last threat.

"There's plenty of room to add on, you know," said Enekar, one of those who'd been helping on the construction for several days now. "Anyen'll want brothers and sisters. It won't be long before we have a whole little village of dwarf children running around over here." He was looking at Tully with a grin and a glint of mischief in his eye, and the dwarf woman blushed and laughed quietly. Hyara grinned too, reminded uncannily of Gheris. She had a feeling that if somehow Enekar and her brother ever happened to meet, their combined nose for mischief would be a true menace to be reckoned with.

Galmak was lounging in the grass under a nearby tree and Hyara strolled over to join him.

"You seem tired," she said in mild concern.

"Oh. Well, we've been working all morning."

"No, it's more than just that." She raised an eyebrow at him. "Haven't you been sleeping lately?"

He snorted and shook his head. There wasn't much use in trying to hide anything between the two of them anymore. "I've been sleeping alright, mostly. But, uh… I've been having those dreams again some."

He felt her sudden flash of alarm. "Oh, Galmak. Why didn't you tell me when they started? What is this all about, love?"

"They've really been nothing like they were, there's no need for you to worry," he tried to reassure her. "It's odd… I seem to be able to tell them to go away now. I'll start out in that place, and then if I decide to sleep, it'll all just melt away and I can sleep the rest of the night without trouble. I don't know what changed, but it's not as bad as it was before."

Hyara watched the stream flowing nearby and pulled absently at a blade of grass. "Do you think it's because…" She trailed off and looked at him askance. He always hated having to acknowledge his darker abilities and she was, as usual, wary of bringing it up.

But this time he seemed merely thoughtful. "I don't know," he admitted. "I suppose it might be, but I was having these dreams before. If they had anything to do with my– uh, those abilities, why would I have had these dreams even when I could… could still touch the elements," he finished quietly.

"Have you heard or seen anything more?"

He shook his head. "I haven't stayed long enough to give it a chance, I suppose. Frankly, those dreams make me uneasy. I think I'd rather not find anything else that might be lurking in them."

She smiled, brushing a hand over his forehead and smoothing back a lock of sweaty hair. "At least you can get out of them now and get some proper sleep at night."

"Forget about me for a minute, though. Have you been alright?" He could tell she'd been worried at least since Daravan had left. That was only natural, of course, but he wished she'd just relax for a while.

"I'm absolutely fine," she said firmly, smiling at him and giving him a quick kiss. She was fine. She was definitely worried, but fine. Hyara took a deep breath and tried to still the butterflies she suddenly felt darting around in her stomach. Worried and fine and… terrified, in a wonderful kind of way. Not only had she missed her last cycle, she'd been having so many headaches lately. Her mother had once told her that ran in the family when…

Enekar shouted nearby, alerting everyone that it was time to continue work. Hyara jumped up in relief. Galmak was looking at her in bemusement and she gave him a smile and hastily walked back over to the house. Maybe she should see Remta. No, that was silly; she was only imagining things. Yet somehow she couldn't keep from smiling through the rest of the day.

* * *

"Kereth?"

The Krokul looked up from the letter she'd been writing to see Hyara standing in the open door of the house. "Ah, Hyara. I was just about to go out for a walk. Would you like to join me?"

The draenei nodded and they went out together into the evening to walk through the trees dotted beside the stream. The sun had just set in the upper world and the cleft was dim with a cool wind sighing through the leaves overhead. A few of the season's last fireflies were winking above the sliding water and Hyara smiled absently at the peace of the evening around her.

"What have you been thinking about lately, Hyara?"

She snapped back to the present and realized that Kereth was watching her closely with a tiny smile on her pale lips. Hyara took a deep breath and plunged.

"There's something I've been wanting to talk to you about, Kereth. I… I've been worried lately."

"As many of us have been," the Broken murmured, but she sent Hyara a look encouraging her to continue.

Hyara smiled, grateful for Kereth's understanding. "Yes. That's why I wanted to talk to you. I don't know what to think about how I've been feeling lately. I don't know if it's the anxiety, or… or if it might be something else."

They'd stopped walking now and were standing near the bridge that spanned the stream and led to the eastern path out of the cleft. The unfinished walls of the Marvers' little house stood out darkly against the faint nether-light glinting on the stream.

"Something else," Kereth repeated quietly. "What have you been feeling?"

"I've been getting lots of headaches. I… I have them sometimes, but this is worse. And… I don't really know how to describe it, but… but I just have this feeling." She blushed uncomfortably in the darkness, thinking how silly she must sound.

Kereth didn't answer for a moment, only stood looking down at the flowing water. Then she turned to Hyara with a smile. "Headaches are common for us. Near the horns? Did your mother get headaches?"

Hyara nodded dumbly to both questions and took a shaky breath, realizing suddenly that her heart was racing. Oh Light, Galmak was going to feel this. She made a supreme effort to hide the emotion building inside her.

Kereth seemed to be struggling now to keep her own emotions in check, but a huge smile was threatening to break across her face anyway. "We will find Remta. He may be able to tell," she said. "Does Galmak know anything about this yet?"

"No," Hyara answered and then clutched at Kereth's arm in sudden panic. "Oh Kereth, please don't say a word to him until we know for sure. I couldn't bear it if he thought maybe… and then it turned out…"

"I wouldn't dream of saying anything," the Broken reassured her. Then abruptly she pulled Hyara into a tight hug. "Come, hurry! Let's find Remta before the silly old coot decides to go to bed!"

They ran off laughing toward the village.

--

Galmak gave his riding wolf a final pat and then left the stables. He'd been tending his wolf, seeing that he was getting the proper food and being kept well away from the most skittish of the elekk, but the orc's mind was elsewhere. Palla followed him out into the deepening night and nosed his leg until he reached down to scratch her ears absently.

_What's got her so agitated?_ he asked his wolf. Hyara had been off on her own for a bit today and then tonight she'd said she was going for a walk alone. He'd felt an unusual amount of worry in her lately, but tonight it seemed worse.

It was a rhetorical question, but Palla knew that. Her master often voiced his worries to her to air them out in his own mind. _I don't know. Gink won't say a word about it_, she replied, just to keep him talking.

_Well, I wish she'd just–_ He broke off abruptly and froze in the middle of the deserted market square. His head swiveled to the northwest and then he was racing through the village's narrow, darkened streets toward where he could sense his wife. He bolted around a last corner and then in front of him the door to Remta's house flew open and Kereth burst out, heading in the direction of the inn.

"Kereth!" he called before she could get any further. She jumped and spun around with a cry of surprise.

"Galmak! I was just going looking for you!" She laughed and hurried back to steer him by the arm as he made purposefully for the door.

"What in hells is going on?" He paused uncomfortably, not sure how to account for his timing of showing up here at apparently just the right moment, but Kereth only grinned hugely and shook her head.

"Wait and see," she whispered as they stepped through the door into Remta's house.

Hyara was sitting at a little table across from Remta, fiddling absently with an empty glass. She looked outwardly calm now, but to Galmak she felt… well, she seemed to be exuding something he could only describe as a sort of serene radiance. She was happy. Absurdly, fantastically, completely happy.

"Hyara," he said quietly, almost afraid to speak and possibly break the spell.

She smiled up at him and reached out to take his hands. "I'm going to have a baby," she said simply.

Galmak stood staring down at her in dumbfounded shock with his brain valiantly trying to process what she'd just said. "I'm not sure I heard right," he finally rumbled hoarsely.

Hyara nodded and then she leaned close, giving him an impish smile. "I'm going to have a baby," she repeated in a whisper.

It really hit him then: all the doubts they'd both harbored, covert and expressed; all the sadness, the emptiness, and finally the resignation that it might never happen. It had all been for nothing. And good gods, how wonderful that was. There'd be another little person to share their lives now, a life they'd created together against the odds and despite the forces that had tried to keep them apart in the past. Galmak threw his head back and roared at the top of his lungs in fierce joy, rattling the tiny house to its foundations. He didn't even notice when Remta and Kereth both nearly jumped out of their skin. Hyara hadn't moved a muscle; she was still smiling that radiant smile that he realized he was now mirroring.

Galmak dropped to his knees in front of her chair and gathered her into his arms. "Oh gods, my sweet love," he said in a choked whisper. "A baby. I'd hoped so much we could."

He felt so good in her arms and she couldn't remember ever being so happy. "Persistence pays off," she whispered back, and he chuckled and kissed her slowly and tenderly, savoring the feel of her lips and the scent of her body. He pulled back after a moment and hesitantly pressed a huge hand to her stomach.

"I don't suppose there's anything to feel yet," he said slowly in wonderment.

She laughed softly and glanced at Remta, who had risen from his seat and was now standing on the other side of the little room with Kereth, trying to give them some privacy. "I'm not very far along," she said, patting his hand on her flat stomach. "So, no. There's nothing to feel yet."

"But you're sure…?" Galmak's brow furrowed and she felt mild anxiety in him.

"Yes," she reassured him. "I had my suspicions, so I came to Remta. He can feel it, I'm far enough along for that. There's no doubt."

"Oh gods," Galmak said again and leaned in to plant a kiss on her stomach. "Thank the ancestors."

There was a soft choking sound from the other side of the room and they looked over to see Kereth clinging to Remta. She was smiling and crying all at once and the Broken man looked so confused trying to console her that Hyara and Galmak both laughed. Hyara took Galmak's hand and they crossed the room together.

"I am so happy for you both," Kereth whispered, wrapping the younger woman in a hug. "We never dreamed… Oloru would have been so happy to know. One of our own is having a baby."

There were tears on Hyara's cheeks now too, but she smiled and squeezed the hand Remta had rested on Kereth's shoulder.

"Now we need to start fighting over a name," Galmak said. He was grinning hugely and he felt so proud and happy that the bond thrummed with the energy of it. Hyara laughed and threw her arms around him.

"No fighting over that," she said. "We'll have to come to an agreement."

"Hmm," he grunted thoughtfully. "Alright. If it's a girl, I'll name her; if it's a boy, you can name him?"

"We'll see," she said, nuzzling her cheek against his tusks.

* * *

The next day passed in a dream-like blur for both of them. There didn't seem to be anything else in the world but the two of them together and the tiny life growing inside Hyara. They spent hours sitting beside the stream after hearing words of congratulations from anyone they ran into in the village. They talked a great deal, about names, family, the future, what their child would be like; but they were silent even more. The bond wrapped them both in bliss and glowing anticipation, making them content to relish their shared emotions without words.

Construction on the Marvers' little house was finished not too many days afterward and Tully had a feast planned to celebrate not only their new home, but also Galmak and Hyara's news. She seemed now to have lost the last vestiges of her fear of Galmak, although she was still shy and slightly nervous around him. Hyara teased him that he must have found the best way to seem less scary by becoming a father, which only made him grin and puff up with pride.

The feast was the most celebration the Kanrethad had seen in quite a while. Spirits were high, the dwarven ale flowed freely, and the talk and laughter went long into the night. Everyone had brought something to give the Marvers, and it was as if they were now getting the happy welcome that had been so lacking in the tension following Daravan's threat. No one was thinking of that now; it was out of sight and out of mind for the time being.

Uncharacteristically for him, Galmak had had a little too much to drink and his usually reserved nature had retreated to the background. Hyara hadn't touched the ale herself, nor would she for the next – ten months? She realized she couldn't even be sure of that – but she was having a fine time anyway watching her husband try to teach Enekar and several other men a song he knew in Taur-ahe. She was pretty sure Chetvek wouldn't have been able to understand a word of it.

"That's not right," Galmak was saying. "Hyara, you remember that one time at Garadar… what was that line?"

She shook her head, laughing. "I don't remember at all. Just make something up, love."

"Is a night ta remember, that's right!" Kellig crowed, wandering over to smack Galmak on the back. "Yer woman is havin' a wee one, and many more ta yeh!" Enekar and the others seconded the toast loudly and they all raised their mugs high. Hyara found that she couldn't stop laughing at the picture they presented; she had always previously been just as far gone as Galmak whenever he drank and she was discovering for the first time how truly amusing he was like this.

A movement in the darkness outside the celebration's several campfires caught her eye. Firelight glinted off plate as one of the figures shifted and she could see now that it was Jartom talking with one of his guards. She almost dismissed it as business as usual – the poor man never seemed to be completely off-duty, even at a celebration – but just then Remta joined them. They stood talking for another few minutes and then Jartom and the guard strode away into the night toward the village.

_Gink, do you know what Jartom is doing?_ She could feel him to the west across the cleft near the stables.

He seemed reluctant to answer, but he did finally. _Some people came down the eastern path and went into the village a few minutes ago._

_And…? _she said impatiently, but also dreading the answer.

_They were Alliance. They looked official and Daravan was with them_, he sighed. _I didn't want to tell you and ruin your fun._

She sent him a mental pat of thanks for his consideration. Galmak's singing faltered slightly and he looked over at her. Hyara smiled and shook her head minutely in dismissal, but apparently he was sober enough to realize that something was wrong. He passed his mug to Kellig, who took it appreciatively without missing a beat in the ribald dwarven tavern tune they were now singing, and stepped over to where his wife was sitting on the other side of the fire.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Oh, love, don't worry about it right now," she grimaced.

"No, tell me." He was obviously struggling a bit to sound more sober than he was, but she was impressed nonetheless.

She sighed. "Gink saw Daravan and some other Alliance going into the village a few minutes ago. Don't say anything to anyone," she hastened to add.

He nodded and took a deep breath of the cool air. "Alright. That's enough ale for me now. Are you doing alright? It's getting pretty late."

"Kellig," Remta called, coming over to their fire. The dwarf stopped singing and jumped up.

"Remta, me man! Come an' join us! We're tunin' our voices an' raisin' a ruckus!"

The Broken's grin was a little strained to Hyara's sober eye. He'd been drinking, but not much; like Jartom, he was never fully "off duty" as the Kanrethad's leader.

"I'm afraid it's gotten too late for me, Kellig," he said apologetically. "I must get back to the village now. Ah… Tully asked me to remind you that there is a baby inside trying to sleep also."

"Ach, women and babies," Kellig muttered, but he pumped Remta's hand and grinned. "Thank yeh fer comin', thank yeh fer havin' us, thank yeh fer everything," he proclaimed. Enekar and the others cheered again and resumed their song.

Hyara caught Remta's eye and he seemed to understand that she must know something. She followed him several yards away, leaving Galmak sitting a bit woozily by the fire. He must have had quite a bit, she thought in mild concern; it took a lot to get an orc drunk.

"Gink saw them," she said without preamble. Remta frowned and shook his head.

"I'm going back now to make sure all stays quiet tonight. No doubt he will wish to talk to us in the morning," he said with a grimace and a glance around at the many people still celebrating. It was certainly inconvenient timing. "Were you planning on leaving yet?"

"I'm not sure about now," Hyara answered, eyeing Galmak.

Remta nodded. "I think it would be best for you to wait several minutes and take it slowly getting back to the inn, if you can. You and Galmak are the only ones of this bunch staying there and… ah, it wouldn't do for Daravan and the others to see you tonight, I think," he said apologetically.

"No," she sighed, then looked up at him askance. "Remta… did Jartom think we're going to have real trouble on our hands?"

"That I don't know, Hyara. But Daravan did not come alone this time," he answered grimly. "It will be important for the two of you to be as rested as possible for tomorrow." He laid a hand on her shoulder and gave her a small, grave smile before disappearing into the dark trees that screened the village.

* * *


	19. II: Accusations

**A/N**: Whew, sorry for the delay. Anyway, here it is now.

* * *

Galmak definitely didn't want to get up the next morning and face not only the unpleasant consequences of last night's revelries, but also what he knew was waiting for them from Daravan. Nevertheless, his body didn't allow him much choice in the matter when the time came and he woke soon after the sun, cursing his finely-tuned hunter's time sense. He could feel Hyara just waking too at his side and he rolled over to kiss her apologetically.

"Sorry about last night," he said softly, making a face.

"Sorry?" she yawned. "Whatever for?"

"I didn't mean to drink as much as I did."

She laughed and yawned again. "Oh, you didn't have that much. Kellig and some of the others were a lot worse. And don't think I wouldn't have stopped you if I'd felt you were getting out of hand."

"Good," he grinned. "That's what I want to hear." He kissed her, then kissed his way down her neck and breasts to her stomach in what had become something of a morning ritual over the past week, and then got up to dig around in a pack until he came up with a small brownish bottle. He downed a swig from the bottle and grimaced at the bitter taste.

"Does that stuff work pretty well?" Hyara asked hesitantly.

"Sure it does, it's one of my mother's oldest recipes for headaches." He eyed her shrewdly and shook his head. "But I don't think you ought to try it until I've had a chance to ask her if you should."

"Gods, it could be weeks before we get a reply," Hyara groaned as gold light shimmered around her hands and she felt her headache lessen somewhat. The holy magic always helped for a while but it faded before too long and seemed to leave her worse off than before.

"But we _will_ get a reply as fast as they can send one, you can bet on that," he grinned. They'd both wished they could tell their families the news in person, but letters had to suffice for now.

Hyara clapped a hand to her mouth as a thought struck her. "Oh Light, love, we should tell Merok. And you already wrote Olkhor, didn't you? He ought to know too."

Galmak frowned very slightly at the first and then grinned at the second to cover it up. "You're right, Merok would want to know. And if Olkhor doesn't go back by my parents' farm before he comes back to Outland, he'll find out when he gets the letter I sent to Thunderlord Stronghold. Anyway, have you talked to Saluu yet about anything he might have for your headaches?"

"No… I haven't had a chance. I keep forgetting," she corrected herself. Although the headaches were a persistent problem, they weren't at the top of the list of what had been occupying her mind lately. It could be worse though, she supposed; she'd heard that human women often ran around throwing up all over the place for weeks during pregnancy.

"Well, let's head over there this morning before we do anything else. I have a feeling you'll wish you had if you don't." Galmak scowled as they started their preparations for what would undoubtedly be a long day.

Saluu did have something, they found out: the dreaming glory that Hyara now remembered had soothed her before she'd even known about the baby. It was most potent in the form of an elixir she could take once a day, but he also recommended that she carry a small bundle of fresh blooms with her for the healing properties of the scent. She took the elixir and the flowers gratefully and they made for Remta's house to find out if he'd learned anything last night.

Kereth was there also when they arrived, looking wan and worried, but her face lit up when they came in. "How are you feeling?" she asked Hyara, giving her stomach a gentle pat.

"Saluu gave me some dreaming glory for my headaches. Other than that, nothing to report," she smiled.

"What's Daravan up to?" Galmak asked, getting right down to business.

"I couldn't get very much out of him last night, as it was so late," Remta replied. "But it seems he has brought along two Alliance representatives and they want to begin 'talks,' as he put it, at noon. He would give me no specifics on what these talks are to be about, but I think we can guess at some of it. He put on a great show of being offended when I told him that some of us would be indisposed to begin any earlier than mid-day."

"Do Kellig and Tully know about this yet?" Hyara asked.

Remta nodded. "I informed Tully this morning. They will both be at the meeting hall at noon."

"I suppose Hyara needs to be there also," Galmak grunted, very unhappy about that.

"This will most likely concern her too, if Daravan's parting shots last time were any indication," Remta sighed. "And it therefore concerns you as well, Galmak, so you will have as much right to a seat there as anyone else."

"Good that we're clear on that. The Alliance had better be clear too," the orc growled.

As noon approached, Galmak and Hyara joined Remta, Kereth, Kellig, and Tully in the meeting hall. Predictably, Daravan hadn't arrived yet and they sat down to wait while Jartom stalked around outside, looking out for the dwarf to emerge from the inn. The captain of the guard was none too pleased at the necessity of allowing Daravan back in the village and he'd made it clear the previous night that the dwarf was not welcome to move around the village as he chose.

Finally the door opened and Jartom appeared. "Ready?" he asked curtly, and unnecessarily, Hyara thought, since they'd all been ready for some time now, but it was probably the Broken's way of jabbing at Daravan by making him wait an extra minute now. Remta nodded and the captain of the guard pushed the door open to allow the Alliance delegation to file in.

There were three of them, including Daravan. One was a human, greying but not wizened, wearing dark blue-and-green robes, compactly built and a bit on the short side for his race. His jaw line was strong and his blue eyes darted sharply around the room to take them all in. Following him was a draenei, much to Hyara's surprise. He towered over the human and was a head taller even than Remta, with ice-blue hair and skin nearly the same shade, and a short beard that hung down over two facial tendrils. He was clad in a few pieces of ceremonial plate and he seemed to make the room feel smaller as soon as he came in. 

Daravan brought up the rear, almost skulking in the shadow of the huge draenei in a way that made Hyara's lips twitch in a faint satisfied smile before she could stop herself.

"You're Remta, I take it?" the human said in a deep, melodic voice. The Krokul bowed slightly at the waist in acknowledgement and the human strode across the room to extend a hand. "Nicholaus Redsail, Alliance ambassador and occasional emissary to the peoples of Outland," he said, returning Remta's bow.

"Welcome to Karkun Kamil, ambassador," Remta said, shaking his hand briefly.

"Allow me to introduce Vindicator Rulaad, also with the Alliance ambassadorial corps of Stormwind, and I believe you already know Advisor Marver of Ironforge."

"Indeed," Remta said dryly, indicating seats around the table. He introduced the rest of them and Redsail frowned when they got to Galmak.

"You're a Horde citizen," Redsail stated.

"That's right," Galmak acknowledged, nodding and eyeing the human warily. "I'm here because I've been led to believe all this concerns my wife."

"Oh yes, it concerns your wife a great deal, I'm afraid," Redsail said with an expansive gesture. He appeared to dismiss Galmak then and addressed Remta. "I think we should cut straight to the quick of this matter, ah… Forgive me, do you have a title you'd prefer I use?"

" 'Remta' will do. 'Shaman' if you feel you must."

Redsail nodded. "There have been some serious accusations made in Ironforge regarding Kellig and Tully Marver. We do, of course, respect your laws, but we are under the obligation to investigate these claims by our allies." Daravan grumped something unintelligible and Redsail paused to raise an eyebrow at him coolly before continuing. "Then there is another matter that was called to our attention, a matter that had been pushed to the back of the fire, so to speak, because it was frankly not important enough to warrant the time necessary to investigate it. However, coupled with this new matter and with certain other… ah, concerns of the Alliance, we feel it might be prudent to initiate investigations into your Emissary Hyara's close association with the Horde and subsequent abandonment of the Alliance."

"I don't see that that is relevant in the slightest," Remta said calmly. "That is surely an old case by now and can't have any bearing on the accusations leveled against the Marvers."

"Not directly, no. I did mention other concerns the Alliance has, though, and it is relevant to those."

"And those concerns are?"

Rulaad spoke now for the first time, in a deep but soft voice. "The Alliance is concerned that you show a pattern of favoritism toward the Horde and a tendency to harbor deserters and possible traitors."

Hyara's mouth flew open in outraged astonishment. She was still a _possible_ traitor, but now she was also a deserter regardless, was she?

"My loyalty is mine to give where I choose," she said icily. Rulaad looked over at her expressionlessly before turning his attention back to Remta.

"We are here to learn the truth of these matters; all of them," Redsail said placatingly. Daravan muttered something sulkily and shot a venomous look at his brother. Hyara was surprised he'd managed to keep his foul mouth shut through everything so far.

"I'd be interested to hear about this pattern of favoritism toward the Horde," Galmak rumbled. "Because being Horde myself, I haven't noticed it especially."

"It is suspect that the Kanrethad associate with the Horde at all, given where their loyalties ought to lie," Rulaad said.

"Peace, vindicator," Redsail said mildly.

"As Hyara just said, our loyalties are ours to give where we choose!" Kereth retorted.

Redsail let that pass without comment and continued. "We are also concerned that your overtures toward the Alliance have been less than adequate and we would like to rectify that with our visit here."

"We sent Emissary Hyara to Exodar and we are in constant contact with Telaar," Remta said through gritted teeth. "You consider that inadequate?"

Redsail looked slightly uncomfortable and he said a trace reluctantly, "From one point of view, yes. The emissary's visit and your contact with Telaar we construe more as gestures of friendship toward your own people, and we feel you have largely ignored the Alliance as a whole in favor of closer associations with the Horde. After all, you did contact Garadar before anyone else and you sent your emissary to meet with Warchief Thrall straight off, shaman."

"How you construe our actions is hardly within our control," Remta said coldly, rising from his seat. "Ambassador Redsail, you and Vindicator Rulaad are welcome in Karkun Kamil, as is anyone else who comes here peaceably, whether Alliance or Horde. Daravan is not welcome, due to his own objectionable behavior. We are under no obligation to prove our intentions to you, or to prove that we hold the Alliance in the same arbitrary measure of esteem that we do the Horde. And as for your claims against three of our citizens, I have heard no solid proof, only vague assertions. I think our meeting is at an end."

Redsail had risen too and was matching the Broken's hard stare measure for measure. "Shaman, I am sorry to put so fine a point on it, but the truth is that you cannot afford _not_ to treat with us. You are at a precarious time in your development. Now, we are making no arrests at this time; we have no desire to do anything rash without just cause."

"The Alliance demands that you account for the behavior of these three," Rulaad said coldly.

Hyara realized she was holding her breath, horrified at what this had come to. Galmak's hand squeezed her thigh under the table and she could feel his tension, barely restrained and amplified by her own. Remta shifted to her left and she could almost smell the anger and indecision rolling off him and Kereth. Then she heard her own voice, all too small and weak, break the silent spell of the men's cold stares.

"How exactly do you expect us to account for our behavior, Ambassador Redsail?"

The ambassador's eyes flicked away from Remta, softening slightly as they rested on her. "We would appreciate it greatly if the Kanrethad would allow us the opportunity to question the three of you. Separately, of course," he added a bit apologetically.

Kellig's face was a thundercloud, glaring death and mayhem at his brother. Tully looked tired and pale. Hyara refrained from looking at Remta and made her own decision. There was simply no way the Kanrethad could stand against the Alliance and she wouldn't ask them to try.

"I'll agree to the questioning," she said and felt a surge of anger from Galmak.

"She will not agree to the questioning unless I can be present," he snarled.

Redsail hesitated; it was Rulaad who answered. "Horde will not be present when she is questioned about her traitorous behavior."

Galmak's eyes were glowing slowly redder and he leaned over the table menacingly. "So you've already made up your mind. All you want is to lead her into saying what you want to hear, _ogg gul'rok kil'azi!_"

"She will be treated with utmost respect, you need not fear for her well-being," Redsail said firmly.

The orc hammered a fist into the tabletop and there was no knowing what he might have said next, but Kellig suddenly spoke. "I think…" He cleared his throat in a growl and this time glared at the ambassador. "I think yeh might need ta know he's rightly concerned on account o' her, ah, bein' in what yeh humans call a delicate condition."

Redsail's face flitted across several emotions before he got a handle on himself. "Well…" he said after a moment and shifted in what was unmistakably discomfort.

"That changes nothing," Rulaad said, and he was now staring at Hyara in a way that made her want to sink beneath the table. "She will not be harmed in any way."

Galmak snarled again wordlessly, feeling like a hog-tied boar. "I won't stand for you harassing–" Hyara squeezed his hand hard and he shut his mouth abruptly at the emotion he felt in her.

"Me husband and I will agree ta be questioned also. We have nothing ta hide," Tully said quietly. "Yeh can start with us, if yeh please, ambassador."

Redsail nodded in relief. "We'll do that; thank you, Mrs. Marver."

There was talk of times for the "interviews" the next day and a few cold pleasantries exchanged as Redsail, Rulaad, and Daravan left, but Hyara didn't listen to most of it. For the first time, she was wondering in earnest what befell traitors of the Alliance and thinking of all the rumors she'd heard of the dungeons below Stormwind.

Galmak was considering all that, along with one other detail: for a moment he'd been livid enough – _trapped_ enough – that it had sounded like a real solution to call on the monster he felt inside him every day writhing to be free. And that made him wish he could run from himself, just as he would take Hyara and run from the Alliance if they needed to.

* * *

"Where would we go?" Hyara asked, trying to keep her voice calm and her thoughts logical.

Galmak was pacing the room, looking and feeling more agitated than he'd been in a long time. "Orgrimmar," he barked. "If they're going to call you a traitor anyway, you may as well join the Horde. Thrall will take you."

"Abandon the Kanrethad and never be welcome in Exodar or Azure Watch again."

He slammed a fist into the wall and then guiltily realized he was letting himself get too far out of control. A deep breath and a pause with his eyes closed helped him get a grip on his thoughts. Hyara was scared; terrified even, for the baby and herself. She needed him to anchor her right now, not feed her fears of the worst that could happen.

"Alright," he started over in a calmer voice and tried to give her a sense of solidity and protectiveness through the bond. "We're not going to think about going anywhere for now. All they want is to talk, and you haven't done anything wrong to talk about."

"It depends on what they think is wrong," Hyara said in a small voice.

The anger threatened to roil up again and he tried to shove it away. He'd seen how that draenei had looked at her. They'd faced contempt before; why was he suddenly so provoked by it? The answer was right there immediately, though: the two of them had made the decision to be together, knowing full well what it could mean for them. Their child, however, had not chosen this difficult path. They were going to bring into the world a child who would have to face contempt that he or she hadn't done a thing to earn.

Hyara lifted her forehead from her hands and crossed the room to wrap her arms around him. "Our baby will be loved right here," she whispered. "He or she will grow up in Karkun Kamil among people for whom it's a miracle and a blessing to have a baby born at all, regardless of race. I'm not leaving, and that means you're not either, love."

Galmak couldn't speak; he only grunted and buried his face in her hair, squeezing her against him. She was right, of course. This was where they needed to be as well as where they wanted to be, and if they had to fight a bit to stay here, so be it. He knew they wouldn't be fighting alone either, not while Remta and Kereth and all the rest had anything to say about it.

He pulled away and examined her face for a moment, brushing away her tears, and then he began to sing softly. She smiled and kissed him, interrupting his song, and before long they were lost in each other and the outside world didn't matter for a while. He was gentle, mindful of the little life inside his mate, but if either of them had given a thought to it they would have been grateful for the inn's thick stone walls that muffled sound so well.

Galmak's dreams that night began as nightmares and it was almost a relief when he became conscious of the fog sliding in around him. He was reminded suddenly of where this had all started, of the nights in the Barrens where he'd first begun to recognize that there was more to the dreams than nonsensical nightmares, and he was suddenly homesick. His parents would know what to say right now; they would know how to ease his fears.

_Guard them._

His heart lurched and he cursed aloud, startled. He hadn't heard that voice in his mind since that last night in the cave and he'd been beginning to think his fatigued mind must have dreamed it within the dream.

"You said that before, whoever you are. Guard what?" Galmak asked cautiously.

_You know, Bloodscry. We have known you long._

"I don't know a damn thing," he growled grumpily. "Who are you?"

There was silence for a moment, during which he sensed a touch of displeasure seep into the air around him. For some reason he couldn't place, that bothered him and he lowered his head.

"I'm sorry," he said gruffly, not knowing why he apologized or what he apologized to.

_You know us_, the voice said. He gasped and staggered as a knife-like pain pierced his chest and seemed to fill him, paradoxically, with a cool emptiness that felt at once vast and intimate. Thoughts flitted through his head in fragments of color and sound too quickly for him to recognize. He sensed that whatever it was was watching him and it made him feel inadequate somehow, as if he ought to understand better and know what to say.

Then it was all gone as quickly as it had come. The feeling left him, the fog faded to the blackness of unconsciousness, and Galmak slept like the dead for the rest of the night.

* * *


	20. II: Realizations

* * *

**A/N**: So I'm not really sure when the next update will be after this one. We're trying to sell our house and move right now which really sucks. I suggest never doing it. My writing time has been suffering a lot because of everything going on. But in any case, thank you all for reading, and here's hoping you'll remember me when I next update - because this story is not over yet.

* * *

It was an unseasonably hot day in Nagrand, even down in the cleft out of the sun. The door of Remta's house stood open to let the breeze waft in, but it wasn't quite enough and everyone inside was sweating anyway. Galmak, Hyara, Kellig, Tully, and Kereth had all converged there that morning to discuss what would be happening later in the day.

"My hopes are on Redsail," Remta said, focusing a sharp eye on Kellig for what he had to say next. "Stay calm and don't allow your brother to provoke you. It is clear Daravan is not the one making the decisions here and he will only hurt his own case with anything he says."

The dwarf nodded. He looked jumpy and nervous where Tully seemed to grow calmer as the time approached for the interviews.

Galmak and Hyara didn't speak much, afraid that their mutual worry would spill out into their words. The bond was like that sometimes; occasionally they found they weren't expressing things aloud because they knew the other could feel it clearly without words, and in those instances it was a frustration. They enjoyed talking to each other and didn't want to use the bond as a shortcut to real expression between them. But in other cases, their feelings fed on each other and they'd found that speaking about it would only make it worse. Sometimes it was best for them each to fight their own internal battles against their emotions.

A few hours later in the early afternoon, Kellig strode out for the meeting hall with a blade-sharp glare and a jaw set hard as the anvil in the smithy. When he returned an hour later, it was with a weary grin and a few soft words for Tully before she too left for the meeting hall.

"Well?" Galmak said to the dwarf, unable to contain himself. He spoke for all of them though.

Kellig plopped down onto a cushion and looked around at them all. "Me brother's an arse, that we know. But he wasna the only one there and it didna take long for the other two ta realize he's a man with a bee in his bonnet. They had ta investigate on behalf o' their allies, but I think they saw the truth and willna hound Tully."

Remta's face cracked in a smile of relief. "Redsail seems like a reasonable man. Thank the Light he isn't blind to the truth."

"They werena happy about us leavin' the Alliance though. Don't like losin' people. But we're all free citizens, yeh know, so there isna much they can do about it. It isna a crime ta leave, whatever they might try ta make yeh think, lass," Kellig said with a nod toward Hyara.

"I don't think that's my crime," she said with a tight frown.

Tully was back after less than an hour had passed and she had the same story as Kellig, with the addition of a private, unofficial reassurance from Ambassador Redsail: Daravan's claims had been judged baseless and they would be formally dismissed once the delegation returned to Stormwind. The Marvers' names would be officially cleared of treasonous taint and King Magni's favor would be restored.

"Ah, Light," Kellig choked and threw his arms around his wife. She blushed at all the eyes on them, but she smiled her soft smile and squeezed him back tightly.

"Our son will grow up with a good clear name," Tully said quietly.

It was worth another celebration, Galmak thought, that the Alliance hadn't proven themselves quite the hard-headed bastards so many in the Horde believed them to be. They still had one more chance though, of course.

Kereth was watching Hyara worriedly and she squeezed the other woman's hand. "If Daravan is there when they question you, make them order him out, Hyara. They gave me their assurance this morning that he would not be there."

"Ach, he won't be, he's left in a right state," Tully said with a smile. "They were none too pleased with him when they found out he didna have an order from Thane Magni."

Kellig's mouth dropped. "He didna have an order…" he rumbled. His face was turning red and he looked like an overinflated zeppelin about to blow. Tully shushed him in alarm and patted his cheeks soothingly, tsk-ing like a mother hen.

"It doesna matter now, husband. He's hit himself with his own hammer," she soothed.

It was time now for Hyara to go. Kereth gave her a last encouraging squeeze and the hunter left the little house feeling as if she were going to a trial. _It's only an informal inquiry_, she told herself firmly. _They don't have the authority to pass a real judgment._

"I'm going to walk over there with you," Galmak said as casually as he could. Hyara just looked at him and shook her head very slightly, knowing what he was thinking. "I won't cause a scene and make everything worse," he said defensively. "But I'm damn well going to wait outside and listen for you to howl like Palla if you want me to break the door down."

When they reached the meeting house, Gink was sprawled across the stone steps, squarely blocking the way. Hyara smiled fondly and crouched to scratch his chin.

_I'll be right here_, he said.

_Don't let Galmak do anything silly_.

Her cat blinked at her and yawned deliberately. Hyara had to chuckle, but she sent him a firm command to behave himself and waited for him to acknowledge before she stood up again.

"You'll know if anything's really wrong, love." She kissed her husband and stepped over Gink to open the door.

Redsail was there on the other side, looking as if he had just been in the act of opening it himself.

"Ah, emissary," he said. "Good, you've arrived." He glanced behind her, looking a touch uneasily at the huge, ghostly cat stretched across the steps. Gink yawned again, showing rows of sharp white teeth.

"You thought I wouldn't come?" Hyara said coolly, arching a brow at the human and hoping no one but Galmak could tell how nervous she was.

"Of course not." He smiled in what he probably imagined to be a reassuring manner and motioned her to a chair before closing the door firmly on the sight of the giant cat and the orc waiting outside.

Vindicator Rulaad had watched the exchange without comment, remaining seated on the other side of the table. Daravan, just as Kereth and Tully had said he should be, was conspicuously absent and Hyara was at least a little relieved for that. The dwarf had absolutely nothing to do with her; the suspicions held against her were squarely within the realm of "none of his business," as far as she could tell.

"I believe I have met your grandfather. Teleum?" Rulaad said suddenly.

Hyara nodded, hardly surprised. The draenei political circle was a small one. "He serves on the council in Exodar under Velen."

Rulaad made no comment to that, instead examining her silently. Hyara resisted the urge to fidget and turned her attention to Redsail, whom she hoped would be asking most of the questions. She didn't like to admit it, even to herself, but Rulaad frightened her in a strange way.

The human cleared his throat and Rulaad also looked over at him. "Emissary, first I'd like to apologize for the unpleasantness I'm sure this has caused you. You must try to understand that the Alliance is loath to lose any of its citizens in times like these and we must do what we can to understand the situation when it happens. However, that alone would not warrant an investigation like this were it not for the other circumstances surrounding your, ah… leaving," Redsail said with a touch of discomfort. "We are not only trying to determine the nature of your actions, but also the nature of the Kanrethad's relationship to the Alliance."

"Remta is more qualified to tell you that, ambassador, and I believe he already tried to explain it to you," Hyara murmured.

"We are here at this moment to interview you, emissary. We may get to him later," Rulaad said. Hyara narrowed her eyes at the trace of dismissive scorn in his voice. Rulaad must have been sent here with the hope that he'd be able to give the Alliance an instant rapport with the Broken, but it was entirely possible Stormwind didn't quite grasp the fact that there wasn't necessarily any rapport whatsoever between draenei and Krokul; often rather the opposite, in fact.

"Now," Redsail began again, and this time there was distinct discomfort in his manner. He sighed. "Emissary, it's distasteful to me to pry into your personal life, but I'm afraid there are those who believe it is necessary. Ah… You are married to Galmak Bloodscry for over three years now, from what we have been able to determine, correct?"

Hyara nodded. "Nearly three and a half." Her stomach was fluttering unpleasantly and, to her extreme annoyance, she realized she was sweating even more than the hot weather would account for. She had nothing to hide and she'd done nothing wrong. Why was she so afraid?

"You met him in Felwood, on neutral ground… from there you traveled together in Winterspring, also neutral… Ah, but he was in Talonbranch Glade for a time." He was staring down at a sheaf of parchment on the tabletop. Hyara couldn't tell if he was reading from it or merely using it as an excuse not to look at her.

"Yes," she answered tightly. How in the nether did they know all this, and what else did they know? "He brought me there and it saved my life. The residents certainly understood."

Redsail coughed and looked up at her finally after a glance at Rulaad. The vindicator had barely taken his eyes off her since she'd come in and it was starting to make her skin crawl.

"Did you invite him to stay with you, or was it he who asked you?"

She felt her cheeks grow hot. "I asked him," she said, daring a slight glare.

"In the time you've known him, has he ever shown an interest in the Alliance, in defensive capabilities, anything such as that?" Redsail asked, once again staring down abashedly at his notes.

"No…" Hyara answered, now giving them both a full-fledged scowl. She was already fed up with this and they'd barely started. "Ambassador, I'm sorry, but this is ridiculous. He's my husband. He's not interested in anything like that, he's far more interested in fighting the Legion than in bothering with the Alliance at all. He saved my life before we even knew each other, and he certainly knew I was Alliance then, but that didn't matter."

Rulaad was staring at her coldly. "He must have had motives for that. He is Horde and an orc. Why would he save Alliance unless he… expected to get something out of it," he finished with a sneer.

"His motives were that he's a good person," Hyara said angrily. "He didn't expect to get something out of it, as you so delicately put it, vindicator." She wasn't about to reveal to these two what she knew of the guilt Galmak had always harbored because of what his people had done on Draenor, a guilt that had made him more inclined even than he would have been already to help an injured draenei.

"Then perhaps he didn't need to show any interest in the Alliance. Perhaps you told him anything he could want to know before he even had to ask," Rulaad said with a predatory smile.

"Galmak would have left the Horde for me if I had asked him to. All that matters to us is living peacefully together away from… from people like you!" Hyara shut her mouth with a snap, realizing she'd once again let her tongue get away from her.

"People like me? Your own kind, emissary? Clearly that's true; you would rather live in filth with a murderous animal–"

"People like you who are too small-minded to see things as they are now, rather than as they once were!" she responded hotly. Light, this was not going well. How she wanted to wipe that sneer off his face…

Redsail held up a hand. "Peace, both of you! Rulaad, I don't see that there is any sense in baiting her. In all honesty, I am inclined to agree with the old SI:7 reports, that it was merely a case of–"

"You of all people ought to understand, Nicholaus!" Rulaad growled. "What if she were a human who had thrown herself at an orc in this manner?"

Hyara closed her eyes, willing their voices to fade away. Her headache had come back in full force now and she put up a hand to massage her forehead.

Rulaad's face twisted at the reminder of her 'delicate condition.' "Disgusting," he breathed.

Redsail's mouth fell open and he stared at the draenei in consternation. "Now, vindicator, perhaps she was a bit irresponsible to allow such a thing–"

"Irresponsible!" Hyara shot up out of her seat, her self-control melting away and anger flushing her face deep blue. "You call me _irresponsible_? My husband and I have prayed for this for years. This is our greatest joy together, and you call us disgusting and irresponsible?"

"What isn't disgusting and irresponsible about birthing half-animal children into the world when there are so few of us because of them?" Rulaad spat.

Angry tears were trickling down her face now and she was furious with herself for allowing his words to hurt her so much. She knew Rulaad didn't speak for all of her people, but there was no denying he did speak for some of them. The worst part was that she was powerless to convince him otherwise; she couldn't explain the events that had brought her and Galmak together, the years of love, or the deep understanding that had grown between them. As far as Rulaad was concerned, she had "thrown herself at an orc" just to be perverse.

There was a thud and a growl that sounded like Gink as the door flew open behind her, and then she felt Galmak's strong, comforting hands resting on her shoulders. His eyes wavered between the two ambassadors for a few seconds and then he seemed to decide where the bulk of his mate's ire was focused.

"I warned you," the orc snarled and sprang at Rulaad.

Hyara screamed in alarm as a huge green fist crunched into the draenei's jaw. Rulaad had been taken utterly by surprise and the blow sent his chair toppling and laid him out on the floor almost before he knew what was happening. He had the reflexes of a melee fighter though, and he was on his hooves an instant later.

"Filthy fucking beast," Rulaad cursed, wiping blood off his chin. The draenei and the orc were circling each other now with malice in their eyes.

"Galmak…" Hyara said tremulously. "Please don't–"

Rulaad took the opportunity to lunge, swinging a fist in to crack Galmak in the jaw. The orc staggered from a blow that would have put any other species to sleep for a week, but he maintained his feet and shook his head with a roar of rage.

Hyara was crying in fury, unable to do anything to stop them and terrified for Galmak. She darted for the door, reaching it a half second before Redsail, and they both burst out into the village green.

"Jartom!" She screamed, looking around frantically. She expected he'd be lurking somewhere nearby today in case of trouble with the ambassadors. At least she prayed he would be…

And there he was, sprinting across the green. "What's going on?" he barked. Hyara pointed inside and he pushed past Redsail through the door. She followed, dreading to see what her husband and Rulaad had managed to do to each other in the brief moment she'd been gone.

_Oh, gods_. Hyara's breath hitched and her hand flew up to press hard against her mouth. The men were still in a standoff, eyeing each other with dogged hatred, but now Rulaad's hands were glowing brilliantly from a channeled spell that sent a gold shield blooming out to surround him.

Blood was trickling down Galmak's chin from a split and swollen lip, but he seemed oblivious to it. A corona of dark energy surrounded him like a hazy bubble and crackled with occasional pulses of greenish lightning that leapt menacingly toward the vindicator. The dark shield hummed and hissed like a living thing issuing a challenge to the Light-drenched enemy in front of it. Galmak was advancing slowly on Rulaad, carefully as Gink stalking his prey, letting the shadowy magic push the draenei backwards as he struggled to avoid it. The air dripped with tension barely restrained and it seemed a miracle that nothing had exploded yet.

"Go to the entrance to the market square and bring the guards there." Jartom jerked his head toward Redsail without taking his eyes off the orc and the draenei. The human vanished out the door immediately. "Galmak," Jartom said calmly, moving a little closer. The orc didn't appear to hear him.

"Galmak," Hyara echoed, wishing her voice could sound steadier. She took a deep breath and tried to send a feeling of calm through the bond, tried to dissolve her own distress and cool the white-hot anger she felt burning in him. Gods, he was furious; maybe he'd been able to tell the nature of Rulaad's last insult. The power rolling off him in waves was strangely magnetic to her, at once arousing and soothing, and she choked back a horrified sob at that realization, concentrating all the harder on calming him. _Please, love, please don't_…

She approached him cautiously with her hands extended pleadingly, afraid what that dark shield might do if she got too close. Galmak still seemed not to notice anyone else in the room but the draenei across from him; his eyes burned and his lips were pulled back in a snarl around his tusks. Hyara looked fearfully at Rulaad, still ready with his spell and focused exclusively on Galmak, and then she edged slowly between the two men.

"Galmak," she said again softly, flooding the bond with her love and agonized worry. For a moment there was no change; his rage held at a steady blaze. After a heartbeat he blinked; his eyes wavered from Rulaad and slid slowly down to rest on her. She saw and felt his rage draining slowly away. Then it was as if he snapped awake from a nightmare and he looked in horror at the dark magic surrounding him. The shield collapsed in a whoosh of energy that left the air feeling blank and drained, and Hyara felt a curious but not unpleasant tingling pass through her body before it too dissipated. Galmak staggered and she threw her arms around him.

"Are you alright?" she whispered, pressing a hand to his cheek and sending healing magic into him.

Her voice and her touch grounded him. He looked across the room to see Jartom and one of his guards pushing Rulaad down into a chair. A scrap of Galmak's mind was grimly pleased to see the draenei staring at him fearfully, but most of him was only bewildered and disgusted. What had he done? How had he allowed himself to get so far out of control?

Remta and Kereth were also inside the meeting hall now, drawn by the commotion. Redsail was leaning against the wall, shaking his head and muttering as he stared at his fellow diplomat. Finally he cleared his throat and addressed Remta.

"Ah, shaman, I'm afraid I don't…"

"Let's start with what happened, ambassador," Remta interrupted grimly.

The human sighed. "The questioning was not going well; I'm afraid the vindicator was pushing things beyond the bounds of courtesy. Emissary Hyara was becoming agitated and I can only assume… ah, her husband must have heard some of what was being said. He came in and attacked Vindicator Rulaad."

"With provocation!" Hyara said angrily.

"Yes, yes, I agree Rulaad was being rather incendiary in his remarks, emissary," Redsail said hastily. "It was, ah… it was shameful, in fact. I regret the way we handled that questioning and I apologize, emissary," he added with a slight bow.

Hyara nodded and turned quickly back to Galmak so the rest of the room wouldn't see how her eyes were watering. Kereth came over and laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" the Krokul woman asked in a low voice. She looked frightened and Hyara gave her a quick hug and nodded, unable to speak.

"Poor behavior indeed," Remta said to the ambassador. "We don't tolerate any kind of violence inside our village. These two should be separated at once to avoid any further conflict."

Galmak didn't wait to be told. He rose from his chair and walked to the door, feeling like a recalcitrant child. Hyara followed him but Remta held out a hand to stop her.

"Please stay here, emissary. We are not finished discussing this matter," the Broken said. There was a trace of anger in his voice, cracking his usually imperturbable calm.

Hyara sunk into a chair and rubbed her forehead, closing her eyes and trying for a moment to tune out the tension around her. Galmak was heading back to the inn, but the intensity of his emotions meant his sense wasn't growing any weaker with the increased distance as it usually did slightly. He was terribly riled up inside, she could tell: ashamed, disgusted, afraid, still angry over what had happened… and also, buried deep where he was trying to hide it from himself, elated. He had discovered that the strength of his dark abilities matched what he'd achieved during his brief time as a shaman. Hyara shuddered and found that she had to gulp back a sob. She wiped discreetly at her tears and tried to pay attention to what was going on in the room now.

"This puts us all in an awkward position," Redsail was saying. He cast an icy look at Rulaad, who was staring impassively at the floor. "I apologize deeply for Vindicator Rulaad's behavior. I assure you the Alliance doesn't usually tolerate such things from its representatives."

"We appear to have hit a nerve here for the vindicator," Remta said a touch acidly.

Rulaad looked up at him and then stood up at attention, summoning his dignity. "I too apologize for my behavior, shaman. It was not my intention to disrupt the peace and I will accept your usual discipline for offenses of this sort."

Redsail nodded in cold approval and looked expectantly at Remta. The Krokul paused and his eyes flicked to Hyara.

"Please go find Galmak," Remta said, addressing one of the guards who still stood close by Rulaad. "They will both share the same punishment."

Hyara closed her eyes again and took a deep breath. This day was turning out even worse than she'd suspected it would.

After a moment she felt Galmak coming back toward the meeting hall and then he appeared in the doorway, followed by the guard. Remta nodded as the orc stood in front of him. Galmak didn't spare a glance for Rulaad, only focusing on the Broken. Hyara could tell her husband had guessed what was coming and she sensed his satisfaction that he was getting what he felt he deserved, but she couldn't tell if he felt he deserved it for attacking Rulaad or for using abilities he wished he didn't have.

"As no one was badly injured, our usual practice in cases like this is to ask both parties to leave Karkun Kamil until they are in a more peaceable state of mind. That is what I will do now," Remta said. He locked eyes with both the orc and the draenei in turn as he spoke. "Vindicator Rulaad, you will be escorted out of the cleft by the eastern path. Galmak Bloodscry, you will be escorted out by the western path. You may each return, if you choose, but not before two days have passed, and not before you are willing to honor the Kanrethad's ideals of peace and cooperation between the factions."

Remta gestured to the guards, who moved over to herd the two men outside while being careful to keep them separate. Hyara could tell though that Galmak was in no mood to cause further trouble, and even Rulaad looked properly chastened that he was now being hustled away for time-out like a toddler.

"Very good, shaman," Redsail said with a nod. He cleared his throat gruffly in embarrassment mixed with a large dose of relief. "I will frankly be glad to put this whole matter to rest. I think it's obvious that the Kanrethad treat equally with the Alliance and the Horde, and I will say as much to, ah, those in the Alliance who felt this was worth investigating."

He turned to Hyara with a bow and an apologetic smile. "Emissary, unfortunate circumstances compelled the Alliance to make at least a minimal show of questioning you. We regret that political matters beyond your knowledge caused you difficulty, and we hope you'll not hold it against those you formerly called your own people."

She nodded, swallowing the last of her tears, and managed to return the shallow bow. Even under these circumstances she had to admire his silver tongue, a trait which she didn't think she'd ever be able to match.

Redsail turned back to Remta and looked up to meet the Broken's glowing eyes. "I sincerely regret the need for our visit, shaman."

Remta nodded and held out a hand, which the human took briefly in a firm shake. "I hope any further official visits from the Alliance will be under better circumstances," the Broken said.

* * *

It was almost dark, even in the world above the cleft where the sun took longer to set. Redsail and Rulaad had left earlier by way of the eastern path out of Karkun Kamil, headed back toward Shattrath and from there to Stormwind. Hyara now stood with Galmak at the top of the western path. Palla trotted wide circles nearby, sniffing the grass and eager to be off on a trip with her master, while Jartom waited patiently a short distance down the path, ready to escort Hyara back to the village.

She didn't want to let Galmak leave by himself, but they both knew it was the right thing to do.

"I need to go on my own, love," he said again gently. "I deserve this." His honor demanded that he accept without complaint the punishment he'd been dealt, and part of that punishment as he saw it was being separated from his mate for a few days. He'd earned the banishment for himself alone, not for her also.

"I know," she whispered, but she clung to him tightly for a moment. She'd been so scared for him… even a little scared _of_ him, the back of her mind admitted. She didn't want him to leave right now, but perhaps he needed it. It would give him a little time on his own to think, maybe to come to terms with a few things.

"It won't be long," he reassured her with a smile and a kiss. "Palla will keep me out of trouble. Shame she wasn't there earlier." He grinned weakly.

"Gink is not the one to keep anyone out of trouble, is he," she laughed ruefully. "But do you want to know a secret, love?" She leaned in and whispered in his ear. "If there'd been another minute, your punch would've been the second to land on Rulaad."

He chuckled and squeezed her carefully, then laid a hand on her stomach. "Take care of the little one," he said and tilted her face up for a kiss.

* * *

Galmak rode back into the cleft two days later with enough talbuk meat to nearly fill the village's smokehouse. The two days of banishment had gone by more quickly than he'd thought they would, filled with thoughts simmering quietly in his head and a strange kind of relief that made his mood surprisingly light. Relief for what, he wasn't quite sure. Perhaps it was relief that their trouble with the Alliance seemed to have passed for now, or perhaps he was relieved that he'd been forced to take responsibility for his lapse in control. As a shaman, he'd come to the realization that his anger could sometimes be used as a tool, but he knew now that he could no longer allow himself to think that way. Once again, as he'd done all his life, he would keep his anger always under tight rein.

Hyara wasn't as sure that he'd pinpointed the reasons for his relief, but she kept her doubts to herself. She recalled telling him weeks ago that she wouldn't allow him to deny his abilities if it hurt him to do so, but she could say with certainty now that it brought her heart into her throat when he allowed that side of himself to open up. He might believe right now that he didn't want those abilities and ought not to use them, but she thought that sometimes the truth was more apt to come out in uncontrolled moments.

Neither Remta nor Kereth said a word about what they'd seen in the meeting hall. Galmak knew they must have seen what he'd done, but when he came back to Karkun Kamil it was as if nothing untoward had happened at all. He couldn't understand it; he'd been sure they would want an explanation, or that they'd be disgusted with him or even fearful to have him there. Finally, feeling that he had to address what he thought was the elekk in the room, he asked Remta if he wanted an explanation.

The Krokul just looked at him thoughtfully for a moment and then shook his head. "Galmak, you did what you felt had to be done to protect your wife and child. Kereth and I both learned long ago that circumstances can force us to take actions we later remember with shame. Whatever you struggle with, you don't owe us an explanation." He smiled gravely and rested a hand on the orc's shoulder. "I don't hear the elements whisper any ill of you, Galmak."

Galmak's face must have shown his shock at that, but the Broken only nodded and left the orc standing outside the smithy, waiting for Kellig to rummage up the chestguard he'd recently finished repairing.

"Here y'are," Kellig said, stumping out the door with the armor in hand. "Took me longer ta find it… guess Tully did somethin' extra on it."

There was now a small steel plate right over the sternum, covered in some kind of engraving. It was finely done and Galmak squinted at it, turning it away from the glaring sunlight. If he didn't know any better, he'd say it looked like… tusks?

"What…?" he looked up, intending to ask Kellig, but Tully's head popped out of the door.

"Fer decoration," Tully said with a grin and disappeared through the doorway again.

Galmak's bellow of laughter rang off the cliff face.

--

It was evening, a few days after he'd returned, and he was walking with Hyara beside the stream. The nights were cooler now and the wind carried a hint of ripening fruit in the trees planted along the cleft wall. They'd been walking in silence, his arm around her shoulders and her tail curled around his waist, but there were some things he'd been wanting to say for a few months now and they finally spilled out.

"I want to know you're not afraid of me," he said quietly.

She seemed startled at first, but then as her silence stretched he grew uneasy.

"I'm not afraid of you," she said at last. He could feel she meant it, but it was more complicated than that too, tied up with how she felt about their bond and the way that related to his shadow abilities. "Galmak, I want to help you discover what you're doing with this. I don't want to see you hurt yourself."

"I'm not going to do anything with it. That… incident… was a lapse in control I never should have allowed. I… I suppose I want to know that you still trust me."

Hyara stopped and took both his hands, turning him to face her. "Love, I'll always trust you. I think I must have trusted you from the first moment I saw you and that feeling has only gotten stronger over the years. If we didn't trust each other so completely, how could we have gotten this far together?"

She was right. They'd had a lot going against them from the beginning, but nothing they'd been through had weakened their connection; in fact, it had all only strengthened their love. Why would this be any different? He'd have to figure out for himself how he was going to deal with his abilities, but he knew he could do that and he knew he'd have help along the way.

"This isn't going to be easy," he grunted.

"What ever has been?" she smiled.

He let her feel his answer as he took her into his arms and then laid her down on the stream bank in the darkness. Hyara batted his hands away, looking with wide eyes toward the lights in the village nearby.

"You're just so… orcish!" she hissed. "If anybody came over here…"

Galmak laughed and hushed her with a kiss. "Alright, I'll do the proper draenei thing and take you back to the inn," he grinned.

With sleep that night came the dream, and once again Galmak knew there was something different about it. His instinct told him not to dismiss it but to stand and wait silently. After an indeterminate time, the whispers died on their own and blank, expectant silence coiled around him. He could feel the air of the dream world growing heavy and then it was as if the voice soaked directly into his mind.

_Bloodscry. You must listen now and know._

He waited, somehow sensing that he wasn't meant to respond yet.

_You are other than what we thought, and yet you are more. We still bless and give. You have been entrusted and you must guard them._

"I still don't understand," he whispered, awed and baffled at the same time. It was more than the cryptic voice had ever said before, and even less sense.

_You know, Bloodscry. Remember the vision we gave you. They are yours. Both must guard them._

His vision? The one the ancestors had sent him all those months ago to show him his clan as it had been before the Legion? Galmak bowed his head in confusion, thinking. He'd _thought_ it had been the ancestors who had sent that vision, but it was also true they had spoken to him so much more clearly than this voice ever had.

Something, some _things_, he corrected himself, given as gifts from whoever the "we" was. Whoever they were, they'd always seemed awfully determined that he ought to know what they were talking about. He furrowed his brow in a thoughtful frown. If he just knew who…

"Who are–" he started to ask, but he broke off in speechless astonishment as an instinctive realization struck him. It should have been clear to him. Yes, he ought to have known sooner, as soon as Hyara told him the news a few weeks ago in fact, if he'd only just allowed himself to listen in the dreams. Suddenly the "who" didn't matter right now. _Gifts…_ _Both me and my mate must guard them_. The voice had tried to tell him all along and he'd never let himself understand.

Galmak jolted awake; his mind plunged fully alert into the dark bedroom. Hyara rolled over and mumbled sleepily at his sudden movement, then opened silver-blue eyes and yawned.

"Hmm?" she said in a soft sigh, blinking in the darkness. Her husband was staring at her and his tusks were bared in a huge, ferocious grin. "Love, what's going on?" she asked, puzzled, and wondering if her sleep-addled mind had missed something.

Galmak laid a hand gently on her stomach. "_Twins_," he whispered in fierce pride and covered her mouth with his.

* * *


	21. III: Whispers in a Crowd

* * *

**A/N:** Well, here I am again! Are any of my good ol' readers still around? If so, thanks for sticking with me! If you're new, welcome! I'm posting this first chapter as a teaser, and I hasten to add that it's probably coming well in advance of the rest of the story. I'm breaking my own rule here and haven't actually finished the whole thing yet, but I did want to get this out here as evidence that I'm still working and fully intend to finish.

Since it's been so long, a disclaimer: I don't own WoW, Blizzard, or NPCs; just my own characters and story. Story order: In A Dark Place, Joined Lives, Secrets and Lies, Liberation, Light and Gray, Bloodscry.

* * *

How strange it had been to wake in the dead of night and have her husband tell her they were going to have _two_ babies. _Twins_. Hyara had stared at Galmak in bewilderment for several heartbeats before she'd gathered her wits enough to ask how in the Light he could know that. Another vision from the ancestors, a dream, a hunch? They'd tried to make it a fact of their lives to accept the instincts given him by the mysterious sources who had made themselves known over the past half year, but so much was still so unclear.

But somehow he did know they had twins on the way, because that's what Remta had confirmed the next morning, just as soon as they were able to see him without dragging him out of bed. Their joy had grown double in the space of one night.

"I can tell now," the Broken had said, his eyes closed and one hand resting lightly on Hyara's stomach. "It's so early it is hard to see them separately, but yes… now that I know to look for two I feel them both clearly. Their little spirits are strong." He'd opened his eyes and beamed happily at Hyara and Galmak.

In all the celebration that followed, no one but Remta had thought to ask how they'd guessed at twins so early in the pregnancy.

Galmak had shrugged. "Fatherly feeling," he'd replied vaguely, and Remta had only grinned and clapped him on the back in an unusual display of emotion.

They'd never known such pride before, and nearly all of Karkun Kamil seemed to share it. Kereth had gone into fits of happiness all over again, more congratulations followed them through the village, they were suddenly mulling over two names instead of one. It was a little overwhelming, especially considering the recent turmoil they'd all been put through at the hands of the Alliance, and it wasn't long before Hyara tentatively suggested that maybe the two of them ought to head out for several days with Palla and Gink. Just a short trip, some time away together to collect their thoughts, talk, and relax on their own. Galmak had agreed with relief and they'd left Karkun Kamil the following day amid well-wishes and Kereth's anxious exhortations to take care of the babies.

"Where to?" Galmak asked, surveying Nagrand's plains and gentle hills speculatively. It was a golden, cool morning with the scent of ripening fruit wafting upward from the cleft behind them. No clouds in sight; they'd have a beautiful day for traveling, wherever they decided to go.

Hyara smiled and shrugged. "It doesn't matter. We can wander a bit."

"Let's stick to the main roads with our wanderings then. Less chance we'll run into trouble."

They started off down the narrow dirt path that meandered its way across the fields from Karkun Kamil to the road, setting an unhurried pace. It felt good to have the road in front of him again, Galmak thought a bit ruefully, and he wondered if maybe he'd never be entirely cured of the wanderlust. He could feel high spirits and a little relief in Hyara too. It was always a welcome change to get a small dose of travel every now and then.

"Garadar?" she mused aloud.

"We could drop in, but we took the wrong way out of the cleft for that," he grinned, taking her hand and guiding his wolf a little closer to her side. He concentrated a moment on her sense, searching for what he'd begun to notice over the past few weeks – a little warm corner of her mind, tucked cozily away. It was their babies. Or rather, he didn't think he was actually feeling them, but more Hyara's awareness of them. He wasn't sure she even knew that little bit of feeling was there. It was a private avenue into her mind and the way she thought of their children, and Galmak loved to feel it.

"What about Shattrath, then?" she suggested. The bustle of the city could be a nice change of pace from the cleft's leisurely way of life.

He shrugged unconcernedly. "Lead the way."

She did, grinning mischievously at him, dropping his hand, and with a shout urging her horse to a hard gallop down the path. Galmak growled to his wolf and sprang after her with a whoop, leaving a cloud of dust hovering in the air behind him. It was playful competition, but he was also in earnest about catching her – he wasn't going to let her bolt off too far on her own, even so close to the cleft. There was still danger in Nagrand even after so many years under the inevitable calming effect of the Horde, Alliance, and Sha'tari military presence.

Hyara knew that too though and she didn't go far. She pulled her horse up abruptly after a few minutes and shot him a smile, tossing her silver-blonde hair over a shoulder.

"I win," she said as Galmak pulled up at her side a few seconds later.

"You might win now, woman, but you'll pay for it later," he growled, baring his tusks at her in a mock-snarl.

"I'll look forward to that," she replied and smacked him with her tail.

They stopped for lunch at mid-day and ended up lounging around for longer than they'd intended, talking contentedly in the afternoon sun. Galmak swore he could see the beginning of roundness showing in Hyara's stomach, a claim which she pretended offended her. She knew it was true – she'd already noticed it for herself a few weeks ago when her armor stopped fitting quite the way she was used to.

"You must just think I'm letting myself slip!" she pouted, trying to disguise a smile.

He laughed, stroking a finger down a horn affectionately. "It's not too early. They're twins and they're half orc, which'll make them a bit bigger anyway. We also don't know exactly how far along you are. You might be further than you think. There's really no telling when it could've happened," he added wickedly.

"Draenei children aren't exactly small…"

"Maybe not, but I know for a fact orc babies are big."

"I just hope they're not _too_ big," she said, making a face.

Galmak's expression sobered abruptly at the reminder of how their children were going to make it out into the world and he gave his mate's back a comforting rub.

"You'll have all the best help we can get," he promised, hoping to reassure himself also. Gods, it would be frightening when the time came, he suddenly realized.

The rest of the way to Shattrath didn't take them long, and by evening Nagrand's eastern mountains reared in front of them in the dimming light. The orange glow of torches dotted the slope before them, marking the High Path that would lead up into the mountains for about another hour until they reached the cave-like entrance to the city. More torches snaked along the path in a flowing swarm, revealing the movements of others on the path. The travelers pulled to a halt, squinting up at the fires in the dusky distance.

Galmak's night vision was better and he identified the unusual traffic first. "It's a mixed force of Sha'tar and Aldor," he said.

"That's a lot more than they usually have patrolling the High Path," Hyara commented a touch worriedly.

He nodded and kicked his wolf forward again. "We'll have to see what's going on. Stay close."

She rolled her eyes in annoyance. As if she wouldn't stay close; what reason did she have to wander? Galmak sensed her mild irritation but he shrugged it off and she followed him without complaint.

There was an exarch on elekk-back at the foot of the path, bellowing orders to a nearby subordinate. Galmak trotted his wolf over and waited to catch the man's attention.

Finally the exarch paused his shouting and noticed the orc waiting patiently to get a word in. "Ah, what are you here for?" he barked, but then he appeared to switch to civilian mode and lowered his tone. "That is, were you planning on using the path tonight?"

"Yes," Galmak nodded. "Is there a problem with that? Have you had trouble here?"

The draenei grimaced and his elekk stomped once. "Trouble indeed. It's the Lost Ones, been waylaying travelers and patrols lately. We've even had a few clashes with guards right at the gates of Shattrath."

"What are they still doing around here?" Galmak asked with a frown. "I thought they'd all been pushed back into the mountains to the north."

"They have," the exarch growled impatiently. "They've been venturing further afield. Makes for much annoyance and a few lives lost among my men. It'll be a chore to get you up the path tonight, orc, you'll need an escort to get you through all those troops and I don't think we can manage it just now. Better to wait for morning when things've died down. We always have to keep a sharper watch at night."

"But wouldn't– "

"No use arguing, I haven't the time!" the exarch bellowed, waving a hand dismissively. "You'll be plenty safe to sleep in our camp down here tonight and you can be on your way early in the morning." He shouted and waved an aide over. "Beryl, see that this man is given a spot in the camp for the night and make sure he has an escort up the path in the morning."

"My wife too," Galmak said, clearing his throat and jerking a thumb toward Hyara.

The exarch jumped visibly when he noticed the draenei on horseback nearby, but he nodded impatiently. "Yes, yes, her too. Snap to it!"

The aide saluted her commander and motioned to them, scurrying off toward a glowing ring of torches on a hillside just south of the path. They passed their mounts to a stable hand just outside the camp and then wove through the rows of tents and bedrolls. Some were occupied; many were not, their owners taking part in the vigil on the path.

"Light, I wonder how many Lost Ones there were, to cause this much of a stir," Hyara whispered.

"If they got lucky and caught a few travelers and soldiers off-guard, it might not've had to be too many," Galmak shrugged. "Shattrath would come up with something like this to make sure no one else gets killed. They seem a bit alarmist sometimes."

"Here you are," Beryl said, stopping at a bare spot of grass near the eastern edge of the camp. "I will see that someone comes here to escort you up the path in the morning. You should know that if you choose to go through to the city, you won't be able to return this way until we have the threat neutralized. That shouldn't be long though." She smiled, bowed slightly, and moved away back through the tents.

Galmak and Hyara exchanged a look. "Should we go?" they asked in unison and laughed.

"It could put us over the 'few days' mark for being away from the cleft, depending on how long the trouble lasts," Galmak pointed out.

"It might, but surely it won't be too much longer. Look at this place." Hyara gestured around at the sizeable camp and the hill crawling with torchlight. "I don't think even the Lost Ones would be stupid enough to try anything more with this army around."

"Alright then, let's go on as planned," he nodded. "It won't matter if it's a little longer anyway. We can even send a message back from Shattrath if we think we need to."

"We might need to. I think Kereth will want to know where the babies are every minute."

Galmak laughed and put an arm around her as she sat on the bedroll beside him. As if by silent agreement, Gink and Palla slunk simultaneously into the ring of firelight and lay down to either side of their hunters. Hyara gave Gink a scratch and then laid down for herself. The familiar, welcome feel of road-weariness soaked her and she yawned as Galmak spread a blanket over them. She fell asleep with her fingers twined in his hair and his hand resting on her stomach.

---

A shout echoed across the rows of sleeping soldiers, jarring Galmak from sleep. Hyara stirred also and they both sat up, yawning, to have a look around in the darkness. Their time sense told them it must be very late, just on the morning side of midnight. There were murmurings nearby as a few of the Sha'tar and Aldor forces also awoke. Several bulky plate-clad figures were silhouetted against the torchlight to the north, conversing in a huddle. Galmak strained his ears to hear if any of the soldiers around them knew what was going on, if anything, but everyone else seemed to be wondering too. Some decided it was nothing and settled back down, a course of action which also tempted Galmak, but just then the group of conversing officers broke up and began to move among the troops in the camp, rousing a few here and there.

"What's going on?" Galmak asked in a low voice when one of the officers came near.

The man paused and looked over. "There's been signs of a party of Lost Ones spotted to the north at the edge of the mountains. We're sending out some forces to have a look, see if they can find 'em. They may not have anything to do with what's been going on here, but it looks like they're heading this way and we're going to cut them off before they get here if they're coming with murder in mind." He started to turn away to resume his rounds, but then he stopped and his glowing eyes squinted at Galmak in the darkness.

"You a rogue?" he asked. Galmak shook his head and the man grunted in disappointment. "Thought I'd ask. Too bad; we could use one."

"I am a hunter though. I'm pretty good at tracking."

"Pretty good," Hyara snorted under her breath. He was a lot more than that. "You're not going out there on your own," she warned in a low voice so only he could hear.

"That could be useful too. Don't go back to sleep yet, let me talk to my commander." The draenei man strode off into the night beyond the torches.

"I won't be on my own. I'll be with a whole force of Sha'tar and Aldor," Galmak said, settling back on his elbows on the bedroll.

"You know exactly what I mean. If you go, I'm going with you. Two hunters are better than one."

Why did she have to be so damned stubborn, and why did his ability to feel that she wasn't bluffing make him more inclined to roll over and play dead? Just because it was a futile battle didn't mean he shouldn't fight it anyway.

"Just stay here. There's no sense in both of us going; it probably won't take long anyway. More people will only slow us down and make it take longer," he tried to reason.

Hyara didn't even bother to reply, knowing that he could tell how determined she was. Instead she laid back down and closed her eyes until the officer came back. If he decided to come back, that is. Maybe Galmak's foolish volunteerism would come to nothing after all.

As it turned out, the officer they'd spoken with didn't return; instead, it was his superior who came to find them.

"I understand you're skilled at tracking," he said, kneeling and speaking softly so as not to disturb the soldiers sleeping nearby. "We could use someone who'd be able to find those Lost Ones more quickly. We need to establish what they're doing before they get too close."

"I could find them," Galmak answered, knowing his exceptional night vision would also be an asset in the hunt. "I'll come along if you need me."

"And I will too. I'm also a hunter," Hyara said. Galmak growled low and turned a glare on her.

"Scouting group's leaving in ten minutes from the foot of the hill. We'd appreciate the help," the vindicator said and left them to work out what was clearly a private matter.

"You aren't coming," Galmak said flatly. "It's too dangerous."

"I don't see why you volunteered for this and now you're insisting I can't come along when you knew I wouldn't let you go alone," Hyara glared back.

"They need the help," he growled. "I'm just going to sit on my hands when I know I could be useful?"

"And what about me?" she hissed back. "I sit here and worry about you out there in the dark, stalking after enemies. You're taking this too far. I'm still every bit as much a hunter as you are and I'm capable of taking care of myself _and_ the little ones, and also making sure they have a father around when they're born. If you think it's too dangerous for me to go, it's probably too dangerous for you to go. You can't just do things like this anymore without considering the consequences."

"Consequences," Galmak grunted to himself. It wasn't the first time he'd realized he wasn't free to play fast and loose with his own safety anymore, of course, but the reminder felt like a sharp rap on the head. The scouts would probably manage fine without him. He had to admit it had probably been his own impulse to get into the middle of the excitement that had made him want to volunteer, more so than any do-gooder urge. Hyara was right; he was going to have to learn to curb that impulse better, especially when he knew it would virtually force her to follow him. It wasn't as if he hadn't _already_ curbed it a great deal, but…

He cursed under his breath and stood up.

"Where are you going?" she asked suspiciously, ready to jump up and follow him.

"I'm going to apologize to the commander and tell him I can't in good conscience leave my wife here to worry, and I definitely can't take her along," he growled grumpily and stalked off.

Was he just being paranoid and overprotective now? Perhaps Hyara would have been fine to come along; they might have found nothing or only a harmless group of Lost Ones out foraging. It was an unnecessary risk though and he was even less willing than ever to let her take it. …And he was also being hypocritical for expecting her not to feel the same way about him, the father of their twins, taking that risk. He sighed and swiped a hand across his face, covering a yawn.

He didn't think he'd recognize the draenei who'd spoken to him in the dark, but it was easy to pick out the scouting party and he approached the man who seemed to be in charge of it. He was spared the embarrassment of wondering if it were the same officer when the man noticed him before he had to speak.

"Ah, here you are, good," he said. "We'll be going on hoof so there's no need to get your mount– "

Galmak cut him off as politely as possible before he could make any further plans. "I'm afraid I won't be going after all. My wife has refused to stay behind if I go and I can't put her in danger by allowing her to come."

"Ah," the draenei said again in a different tone. "Well, nothing for it then. We'll manage fine, thank you anyway." He turned briskly back to directing the party making ready to leave.

Galmak stood around for a few more minutes, watching the preparations and then watching the scouting party as they disappeared north into the night. He had greater responsibilities now and he was just going to have to get used to it, he told himself sternly.

* * *

It was one of shattered Draenor's oddities that its temperatures, climates, flora, and fauna varied so wildly between areas. Where Nagrand was moving toward a balmy autumn at this time of year, Terokkar Forest, Shattrath City included, seemed to have already reached the colder stages of the season. It hadn't been so long ago that Hyara and Galmak were in the city on their way back from Azeroth, but even in that short time the autumn rains had started and continued almost relentlessly. The sky and the city were a flat steel-grey when the two hunters at last emerged from the long tunnel leading from the High Path to Aldor Rise.

"Well, we could have chosen better destinations," Galmak said, surveying the expanse of bleak, dripping stone.

Hyara sighed in reply and wrinkled her nose. This was one of those times she knew they both wished for a way to turn the bond off – if they weren't careful, they could let their shared gloom wash over them until it felt like there wasn't room for much else. She didn't want them to get stuck in that, so she made an effort to pick up her spirits.

"Let's find a room, get dried off, and see about something to eat, love," she said matter-of-factly, guiding her horse in the direction of the inn.

Their room was cozily warm, and in this instance Hyara was glad for the fact that it lacked a window. She didn't need to see outside to know it was still raining, anyway; Gink's sense held the special brand of disgruntlement he reserved for rainy days. He and Palla had slunk straight into the stables upon their arrival and now Hyara could tell her cat was sulking a bit and grooming himself.

"Are you as hungry as I am?" she asked, mopping at her damp hair and horns. Galmak gave her a lecherous grin, running his eyes over her wet and clinging clothing, and she laughed. "Alright, lunch can wait…"

Lunch did wait a while, and then they decided to venture into Lower City. The rain had slackened to a drizzle that their cloaks could fend off, and though it was chilly, there wasn't much wind. The city's crowds were much sparser than usual. Hyara wondered hopefully if perhaps today might be a little worse weather than was normal, even for this time of year. Maybe tomorrow it would clear up.

"Let's go get a drink," Galmak said, taking a look around at all the mud and deciding he didn't want to bathe more than once that day.

"We only just had lunch," Hyara reminded him, but a mug of hot apple cider did sound like a Light-blessed gift right now and she quickly relented.

They stepped carefully around the worst patches of muck and into the nearest and tamest-looking tavern. Run by goblins, Galmak noted, which didn't bode well for the place staying remotely tame at night, but it seemed alright for the moment in mid-afternoon, and clean enough. He ordered double apple ciders, making sure the barkeep knew not to sauce them up, and then joined Hyara at a table.

"How long do you want– " they both started and then broke off, grinning at each other. It was still a bit of a shock how closely their thoughts ran parallel sometimes.

Galmak took a sip, savoring the warm cider, before replying to his own question. "I figure we can have a look around in the market today or maybe tomorrow if you'd rather. We can pick up a few things the Kanrethad might be running low on; Kellig did mention before we left that he needed several more tins of flux. Other than that, it doesn't really matter. We can leave any time you're ready."

"It's awfully muddy out there today," Hyara said doubtfully. "I think we'd be better off waiting 'til tomorrow for the market. Maybe we could go up to the Terrace of Light?"

Less mud, probably more crowds because of that, but they didn't really mind lots of people on occasion. Galmak nodded.

They sat for a while longer warming up, drying off, and talking quietly. Others came and went, some stayed inside out of the weather, but few people seemed anxious to be out in the city's most infamously muddy area and the tavern stayed uncrowded. Up in the stables across the city, Palla's sense was fuzzy and content, a warm feeling that told Galmak she was sleeping.

"The rain's stopped," Hyara said eventually, craning her neck to see out the door. Sure enough, it had. They paid their tab and strolled outside, stepping around wide puddles mirroring the dull sky until they reached a stone entry slanting upward to the Terrace of Light.

Market days in Lower City brought the largest crowds Shattrath ever saw, but the Terrace of Light could pull off a close second during the relentlessly sodden days of early fall. No one wanted to be down in the mud, not even those who lived in Lower City. Merchants and street vendors packed up wares for higher ground, customers took their business upstairs, even Shattrath's orphans trooped up to the terrace for outdoor playtime where they wouldn't come back inside looking like miniature swamp beasts. Today was no exception; people milled everywhere around the terrace, colorfully bundled blotches against the grey stone. Hyara and Galmak absorbed into the rain-soaked crowd and made a leisurely round of some of the vendors' carts and stalls.

"Look at this," Hyara said, pointing to something laid out on a table beneath a makeshift awning. "What _is_ it?"

Galmak frowned down at the thing, stumped too. "Strange, that's what it is," he whispered so the merchant wouldn't hear. The merchant was an arakkoa and the thing in question looked to have been made from a combination of his own feathers, mud, and a broken gnomish shrink ray. He noticed them looking and squawked loudly, flourishing bony taloned hands to shoo them away. Obviously not meant for an orc or a draenei, whatever it was.

A small figure streaked out of a knot of people and collided head-on with the backs of Galmak's knees. The orc was about as affected as a tree hit by a flying squirrel, but the other party to the collision had landed soundly on his rear and was now scrambling to get his footing on the wet stone. Galmak grinned and extended a hand to help the little troll boy, who grabbed the proffered hand and leapt up with a harried look over his shoulder. His fall had apparently cost him his lead though; an angry-looking human woman pushed out of the crowd, saw the boy, and rushed over to clamp a hand around his arm.

"Ek'han, I swear by the Light, this is the last time I trust you!" she scolded, kneeling down to put her face close to his long nose. "You are going straight back inside and no dessert for you tonight!" The boy made a sulky croaking noise that Galmak might have thought was a rude comment in Zandali if the child had been older, and slouched sullenly in the woman's grip.

She straightened up, keeping a firm hold on the child, and addressed Galmak. "I'm very sorry about him, he's impossible. I hope he didn't hurt you. Thank you for catching him."

"Not a problem," Galmak said, but he gave the kid a wink. He could remember leading his mother in a few merry chases through the streets of Orgrimmar. Ek'han only glared back; stupid adults, always ruining his fun somehow.

The woman led her charge away back through the crowd, scolding in a low voice, and Galmak chuckled. "I guess we'll have to get used to– " But he broke off, whirling around at what he felt suddenly in Hyara.

She was standing right where she had been, only a few paces away, but she wasn't looking at him. She didn't seem to be looking at anything in particular, in fact – her eyes were blank with terror and her body was rigid. He leapt to her side, at the same time running a sharp eye over the people nearby, searching for what might have spooked her. Nothing seemed amiss; the crowds swirled by unconcernedly, people shuffled around each other like cards in a deck. No one seemed interested in an orc and a draenei standing near a grouping of vendor carts.

"Hyara," he said gently, and she took a deep breath, pulling herself together enough to meet his eyes for a second. She turned her head slowly and searched the crowd around them with her eyes and her senses. She felt people and elekk in droves, Forsaken, horses, cats and wolves. No demons. She let out the breath she'd been holding and gripped Galmak's hand shakily.

He didn't have to ask what had happened; she told him readily, as if telling could banish the awful terror she'd felt. It had been unfounded, only her imagination piecing together fragments of noise in the crowd to play a cruel joke on her.

For an instant, it had seemed a voice had brushed across her ears, a sibilant whisper speaking only one word that had made her heart freeze and her skin prickle in a sudden cold sweat.

"_Ar'aka_…"

* * *


	22. III: Getaway

* * *

**A/N: **Okay, I relent - another chapter because I feel bad it's taking so long. Part 3 is going to be longer than Part 1. The work continues but, I must admit, sporadically. Oh, and one other note - it's going to be increasingly obvious that I've expanded Terokkar Forest into an actual, you know, _zone_, instead of like Shattrath's backyard. It deserves to be bigger. So therefore, _voila_, I make it bigger. Big thanks to all my reviewers. It means a lot!

* * *

"It was nothing," she insisted again, exasperated and now only wanting to put it behind her and forget it.

Galmak was shaken though, not knowing what to make of it even if it had been nothing. He wondered if she still thought of all that often, perhaps in some subconscious corner of her mind that would never let her rest completely easily. Every forlorn feeling from her, every bit of unexplained fear suddenly seemed suspect. He wanted desperately to set her mind at ease.

"It definitely had to be nothing," he said firmly as he paced the room, talking as much for himself as for her. "Raizha is dead. All those felguards and the imp were nothing and there were no demons out there on the terrace anyway. And– and he's dead too. No one else knows anything about that name."

Hyara remained silent though and he looked at her sharply.

"He's dead," he repeated. "Hyara, Raizha killed him. She wouldn't have let him live."

"She wouldn't tell me," she said in a small voice.

"Oh, gods," Galmak groaned quietly. It made a twisted kind of sense. Raizha had been a succubus. Why kill what she could torment and play with instead? No doubt she would have thought that was far better revenge than a quick death. And then when she'd never returned to the fortress from the mountains of Azshara…

Galmak sat down on the bed beside his wife and wrapped a hand around her tail, stroking it comfortingly. "You imagined it in all that noise," his voice rumbled softly.

She laid her head against his shoulder and squeezed her eyes shut. Her mind perversely refused to stop thinking about it. It had been only her imagination, but she didn't know what had caused her imagination to spark on such a terrible thing, to choose to conjure just that from her past. Had she been brooding about it, in secret even from herself?

In a sudden bit of insight building from their twined thoughts and emotions, Galmak filled in the gaps for them both. "You're worried," he said. "You're worried about the twins and what kind of danger they'll face in their lives."

That had to be it, and it was a relief to realize it. She kissed him and smiled to herself, just letting him hold her in silence and drawing comfort from his touch.

"They'll be safe, love. I won't let anything happen to you or them," he said eventually, breaking the silence once she was calmer. "We can leave the city if you like," he suggested gently.

He was amused and relieved to feel her familiar stubbornness rise at that. "I'm not going to be chased away by my own imagination," she said with a trace of annoyance. "We can just continue right on with… whatever it was we were going to do here." They shared a smile then and Galmak shrugged; they'd never had a well-planned trip in mind.

"In that case, let's go out to the common room and have a warm drink by the fire," he said with a mischievous grin. He stood and before she could protest, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the door. Hyara squealed in surprise and laughed, but she let him open the door and carry her out into the hall. She wasn't in the mood to be embarrassed at causing a scene; she wanted to be cheered up at the moment. Galmak kissed the faint ridges on her forehead and set her down as they reached the door to the common room.

The inn on Aldor Rise housed a good deal more people than what they'd seen in Lower City, and instead of a nearly empty room as they'd found in the goblin tavern, many of the tables were full. Conversations buzzed and the fire crackled cozily. They were both instantly reassured by the comforting normality around them and they took seats in a warm corner to sip their drinks quietly.

There was a group of Alliance playing cards at a nearby table and Hyara watched them curiously for a moment. Clearly one of the dwarves was doing something fishy that his friends hadn't cottoned onto yet, using his short stature as a cover for executing an occasional clumsy reach to the betting pot at the center of the table.

"Sorry," the dwarf mumbled apologetically as he jostled the human next to him. He raised just enough out of his seat that he'd catch a view of a few of the man's cards while he reached to toss a coin into the pot.

Galmak snorted. "Not very quick on the uptake, are they," he said in a low voice. Hyara snickered.

The dwarf was a bit quicker though and he must have heard something from behind him, because he turned his head slowly and sent a glare over his shoulder at them. The message was obviously "stay out of it." Galmak grinned and raised his mug as if to say, "none of my business." The dwarf turned back to the table, but not before the human to his left had managed a peek at his cards.

"Funny thing about that bunch," a deep voice said loudly from behind Galmak. He and Hyara swiveled around in their chairs to see an enormous white-maned tauren leaning against the wall near the fire. He clopped over on heavy hooves and stood smiling down dangerously at the table of card-playing Alliance. "They're here every week and every week they manage to pull in another wealthy sucker who thinks he can beat them if only he can keep his cards out of sight."

The dwarf glared up nastily at the tauren and thumped a fist on the table, sending stacked coins jangling. Righteously indignant as they tried to appear, though, their cover had been blown – everyone in the common room had at least glanced over at the sound of the tauren's loud voice.

"Come on, boys," the dwarf muttered, sweeping cards and coins hastily into a leather satchel. The rest of the group did likewise, suddenly unconcerned with whose gold was whose.

"Yeh can't be everywhere at once, Lahgga," the dwarf spat as the party disappeared out the inn's doorway.

The tauren only rumbled a laugh and tossed his mane. "They move all over the tavern scene each week," he said to Galmak. "Usually stay away from Aldor Rise and Scryers Tier. I guess they were feeling bold today."

"Or maybe desperate," Galmak grinned back. "Nobody much down in Lower City today."

Lahgga nodded. "True. I'll bet they're moving on to Scryers Tier. Maybe I'll go prove him wrong; I _can_ be everywhere at once," he grinned evilly.

"Do you live in the city?" Hyara asked.

The tauren pulled out a chair at their table and eased hundreds of pounds of muscle down onto the creaking frame. He nodded at the draenei and then flagged down a passing server for a drink.

"Sure do," he replied, looking between the orc and the draenei. "Name's Lahgga Steel-edge, as master con man Truddo just said." He jerked one long, curved horn in the direction of the doorway.

"Galmak Bloodscry," the orc said. "And my mate, Hyara."

"Now there's something I haven't seen before, and I see a lot in this city," Lahgga said with interest.

Galmak only grunted in reply and took another swig of ale; they were pretty used to the odd looks, the curiosity, and worse by now, but it did get a little wearisome having to explain.

Lahgga only shrugged though. "Fair enough; none of my damn business. What brings you around here?"

"Nothing in particular," the orc replied. "We came from Nagrand this morning, just to spend a little idle time in the city."

"Ah. Whereabouts in Nagrand?"

"Karkun Kamil," Hyara said. "I'm with the Kanrethad."

"Ah hah," Lahgga said, draining his mug and gesturing to a passing server for another. "Been meaning to get out that way and see what that's all about. I thought I knew the territory all around the city pretty well, and come to find out there was a whole village hiding not a day's ride away. Sparks my curiosity."

"You should go see," Hyara said dutifully. "Horde and Alliance are both welcome there as long as they don't start trouble."

"Next time I leave the city, I'll consider it," Lahgga said gamely. "Just got back, see, so I won't be leaving again too soon, most likely. Two of you been to Azeroth?"

"We're from Azeroth," Galmak nodded. "How about you?"

"Oh, sure, my parents were Azeroth-born. I am too, for that matter, but I've lived a lot of years now in Outland. Like home, even though none of my family's here. I do miss Orgrimmar sometimes though. I used to spend a lot of time there."

Galmak nodded and raised his mug in agreement. "It's been too long since I was there myself."

Lahgga seconded the toast, then glanced around again at the inn's other patrons. "Can't understand why there are so many people in the city today, of all days. Lower city floods like usual, and about twice as many people than normal crawl up to the Terrace."

"You must not have heard about what's going on at the High Path then," Galmak said. "They're not letting people through to Nagrand, or at least they weren't when we came in this morning, because of some problems with Lost Ones in the mountains. Probably it's got more people stuck in the city than usual."

"That would explain it then. I hadn't heard that yet; I must be losing my edge," the tauren said with a frown. "They supposed to have that cleared up soon, are they?"

"It looked like it," Hyara answered, unwilling to let the men do all the talking. "They had quite an army camped down near the foot of the path."

"Would also explain why there've been fewer guards around the city the past couple of days. Truddo and his ilk are getting bold for that reason as well as desperate." Lahgga wrinkled his massive snout and snorted powerfully in distaste. "I'm a little out of touch still, I guess, for having just gotten back."

"Where've you been, if I can ask?" Galmak said curiously.

"Just a few places in Azeroth," Lahgga answered, taking another drink. "Was taking care of some errands for the Scryers. Now I'm over here doing things for the Aldor. I walk a fine line in the city, and it's always paid off well." The tauren grinned.

"Sounds difficult," Galmak grunted, knowing that the divisions between the Aldor and the Scryers ran fully as deep as between the Horde and the Alliance.

"Not as bad as you might think. Most of us residents keep on pretty good terms with both of 'em. Pretty much have to, or you'll find yourself running afoul of a good bit of the population. And that, my friend, is bad for whatever business you happen to be in."

"Which is?" Hyara asked, and Lahgga chuckled.

"Guess I walked into that question. No business in particular, really. Like I said, just errands and things for whoever needs something done. Last week it was picking something up at Revantusk Village. It's nice having clients with deep pockets; means I get to travel by portal once in a while and speeds up the journey."

He said it casually, but he was obviously bragging a bit. Mage portals were expensive and rare, and the average person could go their whole life never stepping through one. Galmak decided not to take the bait to let him talk about the experience, instead only nodding.

"So anyway," Lahgga said, hiding some disappointment at their apparent lack of interest, "how about the two of you? What line of work do you call your own?"

"We're both hunters," Galmak said. "Hyara's also the Kanrethad's ambassador to Azeroth."

She felt that now-familiar firmness behind her husband's statement, as if he were willing himself to believe he was still _only_ a hunter, as he had been all his life until so recently.

"Both of you hunters, huh, and an ambassador."

Hyara thought Lahgga seemed slightly puzzled for some reason, but her skills at reading tauren facial expressions were admittedly somewhat rudimentary.

"I'm not much of a real diplomat," she said hastily in case that was the source of his confusion. Did she really seem so un-ambassadorial, even to so casual an acquaintance? "I only just stumbled into it, really."

The tauren chuckled and shook his head. "You just told the unglossed truth, which puts you ahead of most of the diplomats I've run across. Which isn't many, but still."

Galmak sensed her embarrassment and he grinned in spite of himself. He'd tried to tell her before that she was silly not to put any faith in herself, when clearly she at least blundered into the right thing to say some of the time. That always made her fly at him in mock outrage, which he enjoyed very much.

"Well, how much longer you here for?" the tauren asked, waving a huge hand as if moving on. The afternoon was waning and perhaps he had other things to do.

"Likely not much longer. Only until the High Path is sorted out, and then back to Nagrand for us. It may have been a mistake to come here in the first place; I think we'd have been better off with a quieter place," Galmak replied. He knew Hyara was thinking that, even if she wouldn't admit it aloud. The city had sounded like an exciting idea, but at heart they were both more comfortable in the wilds. Especially in light of what had happened earlier, although Hyara would never like to admit that either.

Lahgga nodded thoughtfully. "The forest is good for some quiet, if you don't mind the suggestion. Don't know what the two of you like. Much of it's not so wild or dangerous anymore's it used to be when the Portal first reopened, but the travelers are still few. Even the rain's worse in the city. The trees don't let much through and what does make it to the ground gets soaked up fast by those giant roots. Almost like a creature itself, Terokkar is. Strange place, and takes a special understanding to appreciate it properly. Ah, but listen to me, I sound like a druid or a bull not born to the grasslands of Mulgore." He chuckled ruefully and downed the last of his ale in one gigantic gulp.

"We might consider it sometime," Hyara said genuinely enough, even though she was speaking out of politeness. She'd always been curious about the forest they'd never chanced to see much of, with its towering dark trees brooding over the city walls and occasionally showering their peculiar glowing seed cones like hard little stars onto the roofs of Lower City. Olemba trees, she'd heard them called, and the residents gathered the seeds to make a kind of sticky mush that tasted like almonds. Hyara had tried it once. Later that night she'd glanced in a mirror and been startled to see her tongue radiating a faint blue light in the darkness.

The tauren snorted again and squinted out the doorway, eyeing the greyish light and the fall of the shadows outside. "Ah, well, I'd better get going. Took a bit more of a break than I shoulda. Nice meeting the two of you, and good times to you, friends."

"Maybe we'll see you around," Galmak said with a shake of Lahgga's hand as the tauren rose to leave. Hyara murmured a goodbye and then he was clopping out the door, presumably to take care of his business with the Aldor.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Back to Nagrand, Galmak had told the tauren, but Hyara's feel still spoke of a restlessness and a reluctance to return just yet. Not quite yet, Galmak corrected himself. They could still spend a few more days in the city, regardless of rain, crowds, and unfounded frightening experiences.

Yet still…

This might be their last chance to travel and explore for some time. That was something that hadn't quite sunk in yet, despite his academic knowledge of the fact. They couldn't get around very easily with twins, nor even once Hyara really began to feel the pregnancy.

"Gods…" she said suddenly in a sigh.

He looked up from where he'd been scratching a thick fingernail across the tabletop without even seeing what he was doing. Their eyes met, and he knew she was thinking what he was.

"I just have this feeling," she said. "If we go back to Karkun Kamil… Galmak, we're going to be stuck there until the babies come. Not stuck, exactly, but…"

"I know what you mean," he frowned. Consequences for their actions, greater responsibilities; it all hovered around them and seemed to set up a persistent buzzing in his head. But didn't they still have a little time? Just one last chance to explore together, a safe, tame little trip before they had to settle down and be proper parents?

"Alright," he said, coming to a decision and bringing his palm down on the table for emphasis. "Let's get out of this city. Let's go somewhere more interesting and have ourselves an actually _fun_ trip before we settle back into the cleft for a while."

Hyara beamed at him and rested her hand on top of his. "We should have known we aren't city types. What about Terokkar Forest, like Lahgga suggested? I've always wanted to see more of it…"

"Sounds good," he said, grinning back. Then Hyara felt him shift suddenly to slight anxiety mixed with a trace of guilt, and he caught her hand between his, squeezing. "We're going to stick to all the safest routes, though. Nothing foolish, promise me."

"I promise, love," she said, letting him feel her earnestness. "Now _you_ promise _me_. And no feeling guilty about letting me do this; it's my decision as much as it's yours."

"I promise." He got up, stretching his legs and looking around the common room. "I suppose we ought to pay the innkeeper for the night. We did use the room, after all."

A blush flamed up in her cheeks and she grinned embarrassedly. He walked away laughing, enjoying the warmth he felt from her and the hint of arousal.

* * *

Terokkar's trees dripped light. It was a silver-green light, dim and dreamy, that fell in a constant slow rain from the dark leafy canopy. It was difficult to tell exactly where it came from; it might have come from the seed cones winking like stars far overhead, or it might have been shed from the leaves themselves. But regardless, the light itself didn't illuminate the forest, seeming instead only to haze the air with a soft misty glow that obscured the vision for very far in any direction. It was a place of dream-light and gloom.

Galmak and Hyara had seen the forest before, of course, and traveled a few times at the edges on their way to and from Shattrath. The edges, however, didn't quite convey the feel of the forest the way striking deep inside it did, off along the narrow paths that branched away from the city. One didn't have to go far before the feel of the place closed in and the city's noisy knots of people, so recently left behind, seemed like a distant imagining. It was a hushed place where even the sounds of the creatures didn't travel far.

Several times in the first hour of their travel they spied the wide, multihued wings of a giant teromoth that Palla and Gink had gently and carefully herded nearer the path so the hunters could get a look at it. They were beautiful creatures and their wings made that same characteristic whispering whirr that Hyara remembered from the moths on the Azuremyst Isles. This was where those moths had come from; they'd traded one misty, dreamy home for another along with the draenei who'd brought them.

"I've seen a few wolves here too," Galmak said in a hushed voice – the forest invited silence and murmurings. Even as he spoke, something rustled in the undergrowth far to their left and they both turned to catch a glimpse of a lithe, tawny form sliding into the shadow of a trunk. A pair of gold eyes flashed briefly in their direction and then blinked out.

Hyara peered upward, craning her neck to try to catch sight of the sky between the high treetops. The misty light overhead wouldn't let her see much though. Just as Lahgga had said, if it was raining in the upper world, very little of it was reaching them here. They occasionally felt a drop of moisture, but mostly the air held only a slight ambient humidity that might indicate it was raining somewhere above them.

They passed many bands of travelers near Shattrath, but as they traveled further into the forest, other people on the road grew fewer. It wasn't that the forest wasn't fairly well-traveled; it was only that they'd chosen a more obscure path into it. A guard they'd spoken with before departing the city had given only one warning for anywhere they might be likely to go near during the few days they'd decided to spend in the forest.

"Stay clear of the ruins of Tuurem," the Sha'tari had advised. "Years ago it was inhabited by rogue tribes of Broken and Lost Ones. They've mostly cleared out now, but it's still a favorite haunt of bandits and no-good types. Bit of a highwayman's way station, in fact."

The ruins were some distance due east of Shattrath, so they'd struck out by a southeasterly path into the forest. Supposedly the Horde and the Alliance both had sizeable settlements somewhere out here, south and southeast of the draenei ruins and well away from the danger.

Palla's excitement at the chance for exploration always made Galmak feel the thrill of new places all the more keenly. She and Gink slipped like shades among the trees and underbrush, pursuing strange new scents and sounds. Hyara too felt excited, laced with a feeling that Galmak interpreted as relief. He was sure he understood why, too; this was where she felt at ease, exploring a new place, discovering the unknown. She was a hunter, just as he was, and they'd each chosen their path in life for similar reasons. She might have had the role of a diplomat dropped into her lap and she'd chosen to accept that responsibility, but this was where she was most comfortable.

That's not to say no one was looking out for danger, though. It was more that their feelings of being comfortable out here, hunters and pets alike, included being ready to respond to a threat. Alertness was at the core of their training, even when they weren't exactly expecting that they'd need to worry about anything, and so they could be perfectly at ease while also staying wary of their surroundings.

What wasn't in his training was the little ghost of guilt Galmak felt flitting around, occasionally poking at his conscience. Should he have allowed Hyara out here? It was undeniably a bit of a risk.

After a while she finally looked over at him and rolled her eyes. "Love, will you stop worrying? I know you're feeling you maybe shouldn't have let me come out here."

"I'm not worrying," he said defensively. "I'm just concerned. I have a lot of responsibility to you and the twins."

"It was my decision," she said, stubbornness creeping into her voice. "I can't go hide at Karkun Kamil until next midsummer. We have to keep living our lives."

Galmak growled in displeasure, but otherwise he fell silent. She was right about that; they couldn't put normality on hold and isolate themselves for fear of what _might_ happen if they didn't. But he couldn't help but think she was wrong in another way…

"And it wasn't my decision when I wanted to go with that scouting party in Nagrand," he grunted.

Her mouth fell open and she looked away as a faint flush climbed into her cheeks. He knew he'd won a small victory there.

She didn't speak for a moment, feeling a bit ashamed. It was true she was holding him to a double standard, protesting when he wanted to do something dangerous and then expecting him to respect her right to make her own decisions about her own safety.

"I'm sorry, love," she said, picking at a worn spot on her saddle. "I just… I don't like being told what to do… controlled." The word was out of her mouth before she realized. She shuddered, and it seemed she was holding back a dark flood with a paper-thin wall.

The grimness her words conjured brought an angry growl rumbling out of his lips. "I know. I'm not like that, which you well know. I'd never do that to you."

She stared over at him, startled and oddly fearful. "Do that…? What– what do you mean? How could you know about that?" A thought struck her; could he have seen through the bond somehow, her all-too-lucid memories of that time years ago in the Winterspring fortress? _He_ had controlled her then and it had blessedly never happened again after that once. She swallowed, wavering between embarrassment and horror.

Galmak's brow furrowed. "I saw what Teyagah did, the way she…" He stopped, suddenly uncertain. Hyara had never once mentioned, even obliquely, the brief time when Teyagah had controlled her in the cave. Was it possible she had no memory of it? And if not, what was she talking about now?

"Nothing, it doesn't matter," he said hastily, shrugging and trying to seem unconcerned. If she didn't remember, she didn't need to know now. It was plain that whatever she did remember was bad enough by itself. The tiny revelation had set an itch tickling at his mind though. It wasn't exactly curiosity to know what she'd been referring to; that was too kind a word to use toward anything about "that time" in Winterspring, as she occasionally referred to it, when she had to at all.

"I just meant I'm nothing like Teyagah. If you're afraid I'd ever try to use our bond…" He scowled ferociously.

Hyara leaned over her horse's mane and whispered a command. Galmak wasn't prepared for what she did next; with a speed that startled him she swung one long leg over the back of her horse and leapt down. The horse, well-trained to do his mistress's bidding and completely unperturbed by her sudden movement, continued to walk at the timber wolf's side, but Galmak barely had time to shift his weight forward and grab hold of the wolf before Hyara was seizing him around the middle and hauling herself up into the saddle behind him. He chuckled and patted her leg as she settled herself on the wolf.

"Forgive me my double-standard," she murmured, inadvertently poking him in the back with a horn as she hugged him tightly.

"I forgive you," he said around a grin. "I'm guilty too. No more ordering each other around and thinking it doesn't apply to ourselves too."

He felt another series of jabs as she nodded against his back, and he laughed again.

The forest's perennial twilight gave little warning of approaching dark. They were ready for it though, their hunters' time sense invariably telling them how much more daylight to expect. They stopped to make camp close to the path, which was little more than a narrow track worn through the vegetation, and settled down to eat their dinner in the orange light of the campfire. In the darkness the pale glow of the crystalline roots grew stronger, vying with the firelight and turning the smoke to green serpents as it curled upward into the trees. The mysterious light-drops continued to fall in a lazy, drifting rain from the canopy, winking inexplicably out when they reached twice Hyara's height from the ground.

The hunters stared around at the eerie beauty of the nighttime forest, uncertain that they'd be able to close their eyes to it.

"We should have come here sooner," Galmak said softly.

Somewhere nearby a teromoth's wings swished and bark crackled as the giant insect folded itself against a tree for the night.

Hyara nodded slowly, peering toward where she sensed her cat. He was barely visible between the trees, his lithe form turned to an eerie, translucent ghost in the glow of the roots. "It's as surreal as the marsh. I didn't think there could be anything stranger than the mushrooms, but…"

"I wonder if it was like this before the shattering."

She was surprised he'd chosen to mention that. His feel only held a sense of wonderment and the paradoxical mix of relaxation and alertness, though. None of the unease that usually accompanied mentions of the Legion's twisted activities.

"I think it was. From things I've heard," she replied.

_I'll wake you when it's time_, Palla's thought eventually came. He hadn't noticed the fuzziness creeping into his brain, but she had. Hyara's head was drooping against his shoulder and he gently arranged her on the bedroll. Above them, the light-rain cast its worn, weak glow on their sleeping forms.

* * *


	23. III: The Fisherwoman's Tale

* * *

**A/N: **This one is a little longer than my norm. If you don't like that, blame the troll! I hope all his dialogue doesn't impose on anyone's eyeballs too much. It's a balance I've always found a bit difficult, retaining the troll 'flavor' of speech without making my readers want to faceplant into their keyboards. You may have noticed I've used trolls sparingly before this for just that reason. :P And once again, big shout-out to my reviewers. Really and truly, it means a lot.

* * *

Day was humid and chilly. It was a ridiculous combination, to Galmak's way of thinking; he who'd only ever experienced the sultry sweatiness of Stranglethorn or Ratchet on a steamy summer night. But sure enough, the cloth beneath his armor was clinging to his skin and fooling his brain into believing that he ought to be sweating right now. Another strange thing about this strange forest to file away as a different experience.

The path wound on in a flitting tangle between the trees, defying any sense of logical purposefulness. He knew they were still heading generally southeast and they would probably fetch up near the Horde's stronghold, but their road was in no hurry to guide them there. That suited them just fine.

Gink had been catching things in the trees. He slunk out of the undergrowth again with a hare-like creature cradled in his teeth and laid it at the side of the path as his mistress's horse passed by, then sat back on his haunches, expecting praise. Hyara did praise him with a fond scratch to the head after dismounting to gather the small creature up and sling it on her saddle. They'd be stopping for lunch soon and they might just as well have a fire and a proper, cooked meal.

Lunch was crackling, gracing the damp air with mouth-watering smells, when they first became aware that they weren't the only ones using the trail today. Palla found the newcomers first as she was circling wide away from where her master and his mate had paused for rest.

_There are two people coming from the direction of Shattrath_, she sent to him. They were still far enough that she could tell him little else, but she loped further to the limits of their thought-speech and sniffed the wind. It brought her something familiar and she howled in recognition.

Hyara could tell from Galmak's pensive feel that he was talking business with Palla. She waited patiently and meanwhile sent Gink in the same direction the wolf had disappeared.

"Two people coming," he said finally. "Palla can't say anything more except that they're not hostile."

She nodded, now hearing the same from Gink. She could tell her cat was holding something back though, some bit of crucial information, and she suspected it was a conspiracy between the two pets. Whatever it was, she and Galmak trusted them implicitly. They wouldn't have failed to mention anything they reckoned dangerous, so for now the hunters would simply wait and see who came out of the trees.

Whoever it was didn't mind making a ruckus. Raised voices drifted through the damp air, still too far away to identify, and then a cackling laugh. Galmak heard the bray of a raptor and then a moment later the beast itself appeared through the trees.

There was a troll in the saddle, his lanky body twisted partway around to look at whoever was riding on the path behind him.

"Yah not goin' first, yah stinky ole bastard," he said and cackled again. "Yah get us lost out heah…" He looked around to the front then, caught sight of the two hunters, and pulled abruptly to a stop.

The rust-colored riding wolf behind him wasn't amused and snapped irritably at the raptor's tail.

"Bugger you, 's if you know where you're going," said a familiar crotchety voice.

Galmak and Hyara both stood up, grinning in disbelief.

"Well met, brother!" Galmak called with a laugh. "What in hells are you doing out here?"

Olkhor jumped down off his wolf with a surly look at the troll. "Been looking for you, that's what. Made yourselves hard to find, didn't you?" But he pounded Galmak heartily on the back and Hyara thought she saw his face twist in the familiar grimace that meant he was hiding a grin.

"Looking for us?" Galmak raised an eyebrow. It certainly made it less odd that they'd run into him out here, but it still surprised him Olkhor had come after them.

The old warrior grunted and looked down to brush some imaginary dirt off a sleeve. "You're all the clan I've got left. All the… all the family I've got left."

"Ah, c'mon, mon. Yah gonna be an uncle an' yah excited," the troll piped up. He slid off his raptor and sauntered over, grinning.

"Never said that, you overgrown lizard," Olkhor glared. His eyes flicked over to Hyara, though, and once again she saw that grimace. She grinned back at him.

"Heard'joo say it a few times. Name's Jas'ka, by da way." He waved a three-fingered hand in a salute to Galmak and bobbed his head to Hyara, making his wild purple hair swish. "Yah be Galmak Bloodscry and Hyara Ah been hearin' abou' from dis lousy donkey's ass."

"That's right," Galmak replied and motioned them both over to the campfire. "We've got lunch here if you're interested. Did you know though, Olkhor, you're going to be an uncle twice over?"

Olkhor stared for a few heartbeats. "What do you mean?"

"Twins. Not just one, like we thought when we sent you that first letter," Hyara beamed. She was already proud of her children and they hadn't even been born yet!

"Whooha!" Jas'ka hooted. "Now 'ee's gon' be worse dan evah!"

Olkhor did, in truth, look ridiculously smug. "Well now, I always knew it. Always knew you'd do our clan proud."

Galmak snorted. _Did you, now?_ he wanted to say, but why sour the moment with sardonic sniping? Instead he grasped the hand Olkhor held out in a congratulatory shake and grinned.

"How'd you know where to look?" the hunter asked as they all sat.

Olkhor took the skewer of meat Hyara offered. "Not hard. Stick out like a sore thumb, the two of you do, to anyone asking around about you. Got your letter in Blade's Edge and decided to come find you. I met this hooligan here –" he wrinkled his broad nose at Jas'ka, "– at Thunderlord Stronghold and for some damned reason I haven't been able to shake him since."

"Yah be a good guide!" the troll protested defensively. "Ah never been ta Outland befo'. Ah get ta see it like dis with a native, Ah get ta learn da rules, see? Don't got nothin' bettah ta do, neithah!"

Olkhor growled something unintelligible as he plugged his mouth with a chunk of bread.

"So twins," he said after a moment, and the change in his manner was striking. The gruff, grumpy old warrior they'd met so many months ago was suddenly smiling almost as widely as Jas'ka.

"Twins," Galmak agreed, careful to hold back a smile of his own. He didn't want to scare away Olkhor's good mood.

"Doesn't look like twins."

Hyara rolled her eyes. "Not yet."

He was silent for a moment while he fidgeted with a boot in the dirt. Then, "You're sure about it, are you."

Galmak was unsuccessful at suppressing a laugh. "Absolutely sure. We've had a shaman confirm twice. Not to mention that, uh… those people I talked to a while back tried to tell me before and I just wasn't listening hard enough." He raised an eyebrow at the old orc, hoping Olkhor would understand what he meant.

"Got their blessing, huh." Olkhor's smile had widened until it looked like his face would crack in half.

Hyara turned away and made herself busy rummaging in a pack, as she could no longer keep from doubling over with silent laughter. Jas'ka looked to be having a fine old time watching his grumpy traveling companion suddenly go soft as butter over some babies.

"It's like you said; we're continuing the clan name," Galmak replied.

"It'll be a better name than when I last called myself a Thunderlord," Olkhor said gruffly and looked away. He seemed suddenly to become aware of his uncharacteristic grin and his lips scrunched in sourly around his tusks. "Anyway. Now I'm out here I may as well stay. Want some company, do you?"

"Sure," Galmak said easily. "We're not doing anything much though. Exploring the forest, maybe heading to Stonebreaker Hold. Steering clear of anything dangerous. I don't suppose you know your way around here?"

"Nah. Not been here in a long damn time." His eyes traveled over the odd vegetation as if he were only just now pausing to take in the scenery properly.

"And you haven't been here at all?" Galmak asked the troll.

"Firs' time in Outland," Jas'ka replied. "Split mah time between Revantusk Village an' Tarren Mill normally. Rainy place, dat city is." He pointed a long finger in roughly the direction of Shattrath.

"It's like that in the fall. Don't like it, you can go back to Azeroth," Olkhor said with a glare.

Jas'ka appeared unperturbed. "Jus' as rainy as Revantusk in da spring. Tarren Mill gets lots o' rain year round, when it isn' snowin'. Ah like some good clean rain once in a while."

Olkhor snorted. "Anyone who lives by the sea must be half fish and half mad anyway."

"I grew up on an island," Hyara said mischievously. "Does that make me all fish and all mad?"

"Hate to see what the children'll be like," he nodded with a grimace.

Galmak just shook his head, grinning. Would he have believed it if he'd told himself months ago that Olkhor would actually be caught making jokes someday?

"Are you Revantusk, then?" Hyara asked Jas'ka curiously. She didn't think she'd ever seen a Revantusk before, but then she was no expert at identifying troll tribes.

"Das' right," Jas'ka replied with an easy nod. "Not dat most otha people could tell da difference. Trolls know, o' course, but trolls know what ta look fo'." He tapped the wooden beads woven into the thin braids to either side of his head. "Dese, among otha t'ings."

When they'd all had their fill of lunch and rest for the time, they kicked damp dirt over the fire and set off again down the little trail. Jas'ka was a gregarious, affable contrast to what they were used to from traveling with Olkhor. In fact, though, it seemed the troll had hit upon the one sure method to draw out the old orc and make him talk more than he ever would have otherwise: get his ire up about any subject imaginable. Gone were the long periods of sullen silence and the reluctantly-grunted responses; Olkhor always found a way to disagree with or disparage just about anything Jas'ka had to say.

"Just how long have you two been traveling together?" Galmak asked after a while of listening to the troll's chatter.

"Been around him damn near two weeks now," Olkhor growled in evident displeasure.

"A good two weeks too," Jas'ka nodded meditatively. "Outland's a nice place. Lotsa nice folks."

Olkhor apparently disagreed with that so much that it left him speechless. He glared ahead wordlessly for a moment before finding his voice.

"Should've stayed at Thunderlord Stronghold," he said to Galmak. "Been nothing but constant jabber out of him."

"Just fillin' da void, mon!" the troll protested. "You couldn' say somethin' nice if it got yah a million gold!"

"Oh, that's not true. Olkhor's really got a very sweet streak once you get past the 'mean old bastard' cover," Hyara said with a sly grin.

" 'Sweet?' " the old orc growled in outrage, shooting her a murderous scowl. "If that's what you think it's done to me, just 'cause you've got a few mewling whelps on the way…" He slouched in his saddle, firmly ignoring the draenei and the vexatious troll, and nudged his wolf up beside Galmak.

"No further trouble, eh," he grunted after a quiet moment.

Galmak looked over at him with a slight frown. "From them, you mean," he said in a low voice. The forest's noise masked their conversation from the troll behind them, who had happily turned his chatter on Hyara. "No. Not seen any signs they've tried to follow us, or even that they're able to. Just some minor trouble from the Alliance several weeks ago, but I hope that's mostly behind us now. You haven't…?" he asked in sudden alarm.

"No," Olkhor replied quickly. "Guess they couldn't follow. Still makes me uneasy though, knowing they're out there. Got the impression you think they survived, too." He looked over sidelong at the younger orc.

"My grandmother did," Galmak said curtly. "I don't know about Var'kan."

He didn't offer any further explanation and Olkhor only nodded. "Guess that would be bad enough without him. We'll just have to hope they're back to minding their own business up there."

"I'm not sure that was going to last for much longer anyway," Galmak replied with a thoughtful frown. "All those things they said about being busy…" He shrugged impatiently though. "If there's one thing a lot of older Azeroth orcs share, it's a reluctance to return to Outland."

Olkhor nodded in understanding. It made it that much less likely that Teyagah or Var'kan would follow them even if the undead somehow managed to track down their former prisoners.

Behind them, the conversation hadn't let up. Galmak craned his neck around to look back at his wife and the troll a few wolf's paces behind the two orcs.

"Yah don' believe me, but it was two feet long," Jas'ka was saying. "Two o' _mah_ feet long."

"That's ridiculous," Hyara said incredulously. "I don't think they come that big. I've seen–"

"Alrigh' yah don't believe me, but Ah seen it an' Ah don' nevah wan' see dat again," the troll said with an unconcerned shrug and a grin.

Hyara rolled her eyes, but she was grinning too. "So… where are we going?" she said when she noticed the two orcs in front of her had ceased their own conversation for the moment.

"Stonebreaker Hold," Galmak decided. "Because it's somewhere new."

They made for a lively party on the deserted trail, and Galmak's mood was light as the day swung around toward late afternoon and then evening. He was glad to feel Hyara's good spirits too and the comfortable warmth of awareness that marked the twins in her mind. Jas'ka miraculously fell silent for a while, apparently deciding he ought to give Olkhor a break and let him catch up with the other two. The troll whistled, though, as they traveled, something lilting and energetic that Galmak had never heard before, keeping time by the clack of the raptor's talons on the stones in the path.

By nightfall, the warm orange fires of Stonebreaker Hold gleamed between the trees and beckoned them in from the damp, chill light of the forest. For the sake of expediency getting inside the town, Hyara dug for a moment in a pack before they reached the gates and finally produced a rumpled tabard. It was the Kanrethad's, one of the many changes that had come about in the past year for the little settlement, and showed a spreading green tree on a gold ground. She slipped it on just as they reached a pair of guards at a little bridge on the edge of the town.

"Hail!" one of them called out to the group, squinting in the gloom and thrusting a torch out as they approached.

"Hail, friend," Galmak replied and pulled his wolf in close so the guards could get a look at the others in the little circle of orange light. As usual, they were startled at the sight of a draenei on horseback accompanying the two orcs and a troll. They caught sight of her tabard, though, and the more senior of the two orc soldiers nodded firmly. Trust came more easily in some places than others, and Terokkar was close enough to Nagrand and Shattrath that here they'd known about the Kanrethad for some time now.

"Go on in, friends." One of the guards motioned across the bridge and the party continued.

Although some trees had been cleared to make way for the town, there was very little sense of a clearing within the walls. Overhanging leaves and branches still screened the sky with their peculiar misty glow, the buildings far below casting stark shadows in the comparatively brilliant torchlight. The rain that penetrated the canopy continued in sparse droplets swirled by the wind that blew a little more persistently here due to the lack of sheltering trunks. The group trudged through the damp streets, guided toward what appeared to be the inn and the center of town by the blaze of light in a small open square. Hyara drew looks, but not as many as she'd expected; Sha'tar and Aldor sometimes traveled this way from Shattrath.

Stonebreaker Hold was a sleepy little town and they had no trouble finding rooms in the inn, which was built in much the same style as the inn at Garadar, with curtains screening the "rooms" from the round, central common area. Thankfully, there was also a blazing fire in the middle, venting its smoke in curling ribbons through the hole in the middle of the roof. The group naturally gravitated back toward the warm, drying fire once they'd settled their packs in their rooms.

As she sat down beside Galmak at the fire, Hyara looked toward the door to see Gink sliding unobtrusively inside. She laughed quietly and stroked his head as he flopped at her other side. He didn't often choose to come into an inn with her, both out of personal preference as well as courtesy to others who might not appreciate an enormous, formidable cat in such close proximity, but evidently he was wet enough tonight that he wanted a roof and a fire.

Jas'ka cocked his head and stared over at the cat with a look of mild consternation on his long face.

"Dat yah cat?" he asked rhetorically, since Hyara's hand was still rubbing through the ghostsaber's fur. "Pretty. Nevah seen dat befo'." He paused. "He undead?"

Hyara raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Oh, no. Gink's a ghostsaber. He was born like this."

Gink curled into a giant ball at his mistress's side and draped a paw over his nose. Galmak chuckled quietly at how very harmless the cat could look when he chose. He wished sometimes that Palla would come in occasionally to warm up, but she was even less inclined than Gink to set a paw inside an inn. She was perfectly content in the stables at the moment, but she did give his mind a fond nudge when she sensed him thinking of her.

They ate dinner around the fire with several others of the inn's patrons, a hearty talbuk stew that helped to chase away the last of the chill. The smell stirred Gink's stomach, but he turned up his nose at the chunks of cooked meat Hyara offered him and instead padded back outside to find his own dinner. Galmak felt Palla moving off into the night to join him in the hunt.

"Heard some wild stories 'bout dis place," Jas'ka mused suddenly, talking quietly through the murmurings of others' conversations.

"Not from me, you didn't," Olkhor said and gave the troll a nasty look. "Told you to keep your mouth shut about that. Told you they wouldn't be interested."

Galmak didn't think he liked where this was going and tended to agree with Olkhor, but curiosity compelled him to ask, "You mean Stonebreaker Hold, or the forest?"

Olkhor turned his glower on the younger orc but didn't say anything.

"Da forest," Jas'ka answered. "Heard der's ruins everywhere from back in da days befo' da Legion."

"Not before the Legion. Because of the Legion," Galmak corrected quietly. "Olkhor's right though; it's not a pleasant topic." He could feel Hyara's discomfort and her desire to leave the subject alone, but at the same time he could distinctly sense guilty curiosity in her. They shared much the same feelings on this topic.

Jas'ka frowned, tracing a long finger across the packed clay floor. "Reminds me of some o' da stories Ah grew up on in mah village. Stories abou' some o' da Vilebranch ruins, yah know? Scary stories, meant ta set da whelps whimperin' an' keep 'em wide-eyed at night."

Olkhor rolled his eyes and grumbled unintelligibly, but this was just the change in track Hyara wanted and she smiled eagerly. "Will you tell us one of your stories, Jas'ka?"

The troll's grin was impossibly wide as he nodded. "Ah sho' will. Da ole grump can leave if he don' wan' hear it again."

Olkhor mumbled something else but he made no move to get up.

"Firs' off, do yah believe in ghosts."

"Just tell him yes," Olkhor grouched. "Saves time and more yakking."

"I did see something very strange once in some night elf ruins," Hyara said gamely. Galmak only grunted. Did ghosts in dreams count?

"Alrigh', das good," Jas'ka nodded. "Can't be properly scared unless yah got yah doubts." He lowered himself off the log bench he'd been sitting on, down to the floor in front of the fire, and folded his lanky legs beneath him.

"Now," he began. "Dere was an ole fisherwoman named T'chak who lived in Revantusk Village years ago. Her mate had gone ta da Loa years before, but she had a daughter who came ta visit her often. Daughter used ta bring her little gifts, yah know, trinkets an' things she made an' her child made. Da fisherwoman decorated her hut with dem an' she told da other villagers dey was good juju.

"One day she was out fishin' on da dock an' she was playing with one of da trinkets, jus' fiddlin' with it fo' good luck, an' she dropped it in da water. She was angry with herself fo' her clumsiness an' she cursed a blue streak there, bein' a crotchety ole type," –Jas'ka winked slyly at Olkhor– "before divin' right off da dock after it.

"When she got inta da water, she couldn' see properly with da sunlight comin' in and ripplin', and da murk from da sand. So she swims on down ta have a look an' finally she sees somethin' sparklin' and stickin' out of da sand. She thinks it must be one o' da glass beads on her clay totem, so she grabs it quick with her air runnin' out and swims back ta shore.

"Dat ole fisherwoman comes out gaspin' and draggin' like a half-drowned sailor and sits down on da shore ta have a look at what's in her handful o' sand she grabbed. Can yah guess what it was?"

Jas'ka paused and looked around at his circle of listeners with a slow smile and the gleam of the firelight in his black eyes. He'd acquired more attention than he'd started with – there were now a few more orcs and a tauren leaning in to hear his low, drawling voice. Even a sin'dorei had taken a seat by the fire and was polishing a breastplate, pretending aloofly that he wasn't listening.

"How could we guess?" an orc woman said impatiently, leaning in with guarded eagerness. His audience wasn't quite captive yet; they were waiting to see where the story would go.

The troll turned his mischievous smile on her and nodded. "It was a silver circlet." His voice dropped lower and they all unconsciously leaned closer to hear him. "Small like a bracelet without a seam, gleamin' silver-white like a pearl, an' dry, jus' like it hadn' been sittin' on da bottom o' da ocean. An' threaded onta it was a sparklin' crimson bead with a black circle painted on it. It was not what dat ole fisherwoman had dropped.

"T'chak was pleased, even though she'd lost 'er juju. She went on back ta her hut mumblin' ta herself, fo'gettin' all 'bout her fishin' for da day, an' put down dat new juju right where she could see it. She went 'bout her business dat day, all da while sendin' gloating looks at dat new juju. It was powerful juju, she could tell, much better dan da rest o' da trinkets in her hut. Den dat night she laid down on her bed in da corner an' fell asleep starin' at dat juju.

"It was da middle o' da night when she woke up. Dere was a breeze come up from da sea and was blowin' in her hut softly, sendin' da little trinkets hung around swayin'. Dey were tinklin' against each other an' makin' da little music dat was so familiar to her, like dey were talkin' quietly amongst demselves. T'chak stared up at da beams in her hut, wonderin' what woke her, and den she remembered dat prized new juju. She looked over at it like she was gonna gloat some more."

Jas'ka stopped and took a puff on the bone pipe he'd lit as he was talking, then leaned back against the log and stared into the fire.

"Dat juju was lookin' at her. Dat red bead with its black circle was swiveled right around an' starin'. She felt it watchin' like an eye, like it could pin her ta the wall with a look. T'chak tried ta move but she couldn'. She was frozen jus' like a fish in ice with dat red eye borin' inta her. Now da wind blew again at dat moment, but da other jujus, dey stopped talkin' ta each other. Da wind blew, an' it slowly moved a few o' her hangin' jujus at a time, all aroun' da hut. T'chak could see it move by da way it moved through da jujus, like a snake slidin' across da surface of da water, windin' through dem, an' always gettin' closer ta her. Den she felt it brush across her face, softly, just like a hand, an' it seemed she heard a sigh like a moan in da wind.

"Yah, at first it was gentle, but den it was like a demon had gotten undah her skin. T'chak jumped up screamin' like a million fire ants were after her. Da burn soaked deeper into her skin until she couldn' hold still and she ran out inta da darkness yellin' an' makin' such a ruckus she shoulda woke da whole village." He stopped, taking another pull at his pipe, and looked around at his audience. "She didn' though. T'chak felt like she was screamin' fit ta wake da dead, but no sound was comin' out o' her mouth. She ran like a beast, scratchin' an' clawin' at herself, for what felt like miles with dat wind swirlin' around her like fire an' pain. Den she fell ta the ground, exhausted, an' finally it all stopped. She looked up. What do yah think she saw?"

"Tell us!" the orc woman demanded with a frown, obviously annoyed with her storyteller's theatrical pauses.

Jas'ka, however, didn't answer right away. He gazed ruminatively into the fire, seeming to ignore the captive group around him, and nodded to himself.

"It was nothin' good she saw," he finally said with a wicked smile that belied the grimness of his tone. "Da wind had chased her inland, far away from da village. She knew da place she was at because it had always given her da cold shivers since she was a girl. In front of her, da silhouette o' stone walls rose up against da faint starlight an' outlined da shape of an ancient courtyard. Da weeds were growin' everywhere an' da moonlight slithered through 'em. Da wind was rustlin' like something alive was talkin' softly ta T'chak, beckoning her inside. It was da ruins they'd always called Mourning Stone, left from da better days o' da Vilebranch and named for what had been lost dere. Dey used ta say da earth could swallow people dere an' leave da bones ta find their own way back up.

"Even though she knew all da stories, T'chak couldn' resist those voices she heard. In she went, walkin' stiff as a stick an' her eyes wide like full moons. Somethin' was warm in her pocket and gettin' hotter. She reached down ta pull out whatever it was, an' dere was dat juju, starin' straight up at her with dat red eye. She didn' remember puttin' it in her pocket befo' she ran out o' da hut. Da silver circlet was hot in her hand but she couldn' bring herself ta drop it. As soon as she took out dat juju, da wind rose up again aroun' her and blew soft as a caress. It seemed she heard a voice in it dis time."

The inn had gone dead silent now except for the crackle of the fire and the storyteller's low voice. There was not much entertainment to be had in Stonebreaker Hold and even the natives were curious to hear the newcomer's tale.

" 'Ours,' da wind whispered. 'Yah returned it ta us an' now we're glad. A repayment yah will take from us.'

"T'chak just stood dere like a stump fo' a minute, too terrified ta speak. When her mouth came unglued, she croaked out, 'Wha'choo wan' from me?'

" 'Make yah demand,' da wind answered with da breath of a laugh.

"Now, dat ole fisherwoman's knobby knees were knockin' togethah, but dis was somethin' she could understand. She got ta tell dem spirits what she wanted, an' ole T'chak knew just what she wanted.

" 'Dis juju is mine,' her stubborn ole voice creaked. 'Ah foun' it an' Ah'm keepin' it.'

"No doubt about it dis time: T'chak heard soft laughter in da wind. She stood up a bit straighter an' held 'er head up, thinkin' da spirit couldn' do nothin' but give in since it had promised.

"Da wind breathed against her ear, 'Certainly yah can keep da juju… on one condition.' Softer da voice went, until T'chak could barely hear it, an' she realized it was movin' away from her an' pullin' her gently ta follow. Dat foolish ole woman went right on with it, windin' her way through da shadows an' broken rubble in da darkness. She felt things catchin' at her feet, but she looked down an' all she could see was what looked like roots an' ole branches stickin' straight up out o' da ground. Little slithers o' dust sifted out o' da stones in da walls aroun' her as she passed. Jus' da ole ruins settlin', she told herself, an kept followin' dat voice on da wind. She glanced down at da juju she was holdin' an' dat gleaming eye was lookin' right at her no matter how she moved her hand.

"Da wind led her inta anothah courtyard, smaller dan da last, but da ole crumblin' walls were higher. It was darker an' she nearly fell when 'er foot came down an' didn't find ground. Da fisherwoman caught herself jus' in time and looked down ta see a black hole in da ground right where she'd been about ta walk. She felt da wind slidin' around her down into dat hole.

"Now, da sight o' dat hole made T'chak's skin crawl. She didn' wan' go down dere, but how else could she keep 'er juju? She shuffled a foot out and down carefully, den felt dere was a step down dere. It was stairs, leadin' straight down inta dat hole. _Stairs ain't so bad, better dan a jump down_, T'chak thought ta herself, tryin' ta keep herself brave. Out came dat woman's ole stubbornness and down she started after da wind."

"Oh, don't go in there," Hyara whispered, scowling.

Galmak chuckled quietly and shook his head at the almost universal stupidity exhibited by protagonists in ghost stories.

The storyteller, however, delighted in T'chak's stupidity because it meant he had a story to tell. "Down she went," Jas'ka continued, "until dere was no light comin' in from above. Dere were noises, though. Little scraping sounds from her feet kicking pebbles down da stairs. Least, she thought dat's what dey were 'cause dey'd always stop when she did. Da wind was always there too, sighin' around her. Water was drippin' somewhere below. T'chak kept a hand on da wall ta her right so she could tell where she was goin', all da while holdin' tight ta dat juju with her other hand. When da wind would eddy a little an' shift, T'chak would catch a wiff o' somethin' – dere was a real bad smell down dere, like stale air an' dead things. She'd spent her whole life around fish, though, fresh and othahwise, and da smell didn' bother her too bad.

"But after a moment, T'chak's foot came down on a pointy rock an' she nearly tripped. She cried out an' grabbed da wall, an' barely saved herself from a nasty plunge da rest o' da way down. Her foot was throbbin' now and she looked down at it, but o' course she couldn' see it in da darkness. When she felt at it, it was wet an' dere was a bad gash dat made her wince. T'chak grumbled and grumped at herself, a fine thing ta hurt herself and make herself bleed down here in da dark, but she kept right on goin'.

" 'Where da light?' said her raspy ole voice to da wind. 'Can't see wha'choo want from me.'

"Da wind didn' seem ta care an' didn' answer her. At dat moment, her foot wouldn' step down anymore – she'd found level ground. Da wind blew her on inta some kind o' chamber, she guessed, an' she had ta let go o' her guiding wall finally. She shuffled forward in da dark slowly an' cautiously."

"Now she's cautious," the listening blood elf said sardonically.

The orc woman rapped her gauntleted knuckles sharply against his. "Hush!"

Jas'ka only smiled a crocolisk's smile at the sin'dorei. "If yah had somethin' yah badly wanted ta keep an' yah saw a way ta keep it… even if it led yah down in da dark an' da spirit world… with da spirit wind blowin' across yo' face an' snatchin' at yo' soul… would'joo not give it a go, mon?"

The sin'dorei's green gaze shifted and he let out a rueful snort. "I can't say that I would, necessarily," he muttered.

Jas'ka laughed softly, stretched out his gangly legs, and continued.

"Da water drippin' was louder an' it wasn't a drippin' anymore. Sounded more like a little trickle runnin' somewhere nearby. Da ole fisherwoman's bare foot went forward an' splashed down in water, she took another step an' suddenly da bottom wasn' there no more. T'chak stumbled fo' da thousandth time dat night an' landed on her behind.

"Den da wind spoke again. 'Yah will go in dere an' find da other. If yah find da other, yah can keep da juju.'

"Da fisherwoman glared around in da dark. 'How Ah get da other juju if Ah can't see mah hand in front o' mah face?' she asked. She was stallin' fo time, see, hopin' da wind might change its mind. Dat wind wanted her ta go inta dat water, and T'chak didn' want nothin' ta do with dat.

"No sooner had she finished, though, than an eerie glow leapt up in da air nearby. It was greenish, almost da color o' sea water, only da size of her fingernail, an' looked like what dey call corpse lights in da marsh. Da light was too faint ta show her any more dan half a pace around it. It dipped an' darted suddenly inta da pool in front of her an' all but disappeared.

"T'chak stared down at dat faint light beneath da surface o' da water, movin' around like a lost soul. She'd been born by da water, raised by da water, an' made her living by da water, so it wasn' da water itself dat scared her. It was what might be lurkin' under da water. She squeezed da warm juju in 'er hand an' now she thought about maybe gettin' out o' dere. It was dark and she was lost, though. Just like an ole lobster takin' da bait in a trap, she'd followed dat wind down, down, down until she was lost beneath da ruins. _Da only way out is through_, she snapped ta herself.

"Into dat pool she stepped, followin' da little light, an' dived below da surface. Da water was foul and murky, gritty and slimy stuff churnin' all about her as she paddled forward. She felt somethin' tuggin' at her though, just like a little urge ta go on, like dat juju knew what she was up to now and could feel itself close ta where she was supposed ta go. T'chak broke da surface one more time for a big gulp o' air an' den she dived again.

"Da bottom o' da pool wasn' too far under. T'chak crawled her way across it, crab-like, holdin' on ta stones an' rubble she came across in da dark. Some o' dat stuff didn' feel too much like stone an' she was grateful she couldn' see exactly what it was. Soon da little green light stopped ahead an' she felt da juju growin' hotter an' pullin' harder at her hand like it was tryin' ta get away. She held it tight and peered inta da dark water where da light was."

There was a pause while Jas'ka again examined his audience. Only the crackle and hiss of the fire and the very faint swish of Hyara's tail against the floor disturbed the room's silence.

"An eye was lookin' at her. Starin' black an' red, glimmering in da ghoulish light. What was left o' T'chak's breath went out o' her in a rush an' she thrashed fo' da surface with her heart hammerin'. When she surfaced, she took a huge gulp an' gasped for a moment ta get her breath back. Da juju pulsed like a warm, beating heart in her hand an' calmed her. T'chak raised her hand an' looked at it, even though she couldn' see it in da dark, an she thought about what she'd seen. She'd seen somethin' like dis juju she had. She realized now she musta seen da other juju da voice was talkin' about. It was enough ta make 'er laugh a creaky ole laugh ta herself in da darkness, knowin' she was close ta leavin' dat place an' keepin' her prized juju. Down she dived again toward dat little green light. Da other eye was glinting at her in da darkness right where she remembered it, an' ole T'chak reached out ta take it."

A feral grin stretched across the troll's face briefly before he resumed the dark mask of his storytelling.

"She froze cold though. Dere was a current in da water where dere hadn't been before, slidin' upward past her face. She could hear a faint churning somewhere below her in da mucky ground, da sound o' bubbles an' silt getting stirred up, an' somethin' else… somethin' that she woulda thought was slow, heavy breathing if she hadn't been underwater. T'chak knew from da sound of it dat somethin' must be comin' up in dat dark, fetid water, like it was scrabblin' up out o' da ground. Her heart started leapin' again and she snatched at dat juju on da bottom of da pool, but dere was somethin' she hadn't realized had been happenin'. Yah see, da closer she got ta dat other juju, da more da juju she had would pull at her. Dat juju she was holdin' had carefully, gently, and gradually pulled her hand down until it was restin' on da bottom o' da pool right next ta da other juju. An' T'chak… T'chak could not pull dat juju off da bottom of da pool. Her grip was locked around da circlet with da red an' black eye stuck ta da bottom of da pool, an' now she had both o' those eyes starin' up at her.

"A rumble like thunder far out at sea sounded in 'er ears, clear as if it were travelin' through da air an' coarse an' deep as da stone of da earth. Da tiny green light dat had been T'chak's only guide winked out.

"Now, ole T'chak could hold 'er breath a long time. She'd had plenty o' practice fo' dat. She wasn' a fish though, an' da water was beginnin' ta do its work. She could feel da panic risin' up, but da ole stubbornness was strong too an' she didn' wan' give up dat juju. Dat voice had promised, she wouldn' find it again wit'out da light, an' she wouldn' let go of it now. She was mad at dat voice, furious dat it wasn' gonna give up da juju like it had promised.

"Den below 'er, da rumblin' started up again. Sand an' mud billowed up in clouds an' she felt it brushin' around her, across her face, stirrin' her clothes. Den she felt othah things. Little touches on her skin. Tiny feather-light touches curlin' up around her, grabbin' hold o' her fingers, her wrists, her legs, even curlin' inta her hair. By now, T'chak was scared, but she was also madder dan a riled bull. She reached down with 'er othah hand ta feel around in da blackness until she found da silver circlet on da other juju. Den she grabbed hold o' it, jus' like she had hold o' her own juju, an' pulled with all her might, wantin' ta take _both_ o' those jujus in revenge."

Jas'ka's face wore a serenely wicked smile. Perhaps he'd told the story so many times that the old childhood fear he'd spoken of had bled entirely away and now he could merely enjoy the thrill of fear it brought to others. He stopped for a moment and inhaled deeply, as if gathering the rest of the story to his chest before he would spill it out for his listeners. They waited in still expectancy this time; there were no impatient prods even from the young orc woman.

"Dere was a groan deep in da earth beneath her. As she pulled, those eyes moved. Dey swung up an' outward an' at last T'chak realized she was pullin' open two massive stone doors set in da floor o' dat black hole she'd gone down into. An' what's more, she couldn' stop dem openin' now she'd started. All dat water weight, all dat stone… dey were swingin' right open now an' it didn' matter. Trapped air burst out o' da doors an' slammed inta her hard. An' dat water had ta go somewhere, an' T'chak had no choice but ta go right along with it. Her grip on da jujus dat were da door handles ripped away an' da ole fisherwoman went rushin' down deeper inta da dark in da torrent o' water.

"She hardly knew what was happenin' anymo', da fear was so strong. Da water carried her deeper down an' dat tough ole fisherwoman bounced around with it like a rag doll. Finally, after she fell fo' a lifetime, she landed with a splash. T'chak scrabbled fo' her scattered wits an' realized she could see now – dere was light comin' from somewhere, green an' sickly like dat tiny light had been. Dere was a bare inch of air between da surface o' da water an' da ceiling of da chamber she'd dropped into. Her big ole feet wouldn't touch da bottom below her an' she couldn' see it either.

"An' do yah know what else she realized?" Jas'ka asked. His voice was soft and his hands were folded calmly on his chest. His eyes glimmered, though, and the smile creasing his angular face was full of predatory delight.

"She was no longer alone. Da water was hazy an' dirty, dark toward da bottom, but da green light let her see into it some. Dere were figures, she counted four bodies, floating below her. Dey drifted lazily and at first it seemed like dey was driftin' at random, maybe jus' stirred by da current o' all dat water comin' inta a chamber dat had been dry befo', but as T'chak watched, she saw dat wasn' so. Dey were movin' slowly… slowly… swimin' their way toward where T'chak had fallen in. T'chak watched dem with terror clawin' at her insides like an animal. She watched dem as dey rose up out o' da water an' began ta climb up dat shaft toward those heavy stone doors, now wide open, dat had been hidden under twenty feet o' water. She realized now dere had been a reason fo' dat. A reason one o' those handles had been missing. Jus' when da last one was leavin', startin' ta climb dat shaft an' she thought she'd be alone again, it turned an' looked at her. Its milky green eyes locked on hers an' da figure slid silently back inta da water. Dat was da last thing T'chak ever saw."

The troll laughed very softly, staring sightlessly into the fire.

"An' dere was a reason dey wanted ta leave their prison, but dat's anothah story. T'chak never came back from those ruins. Yah can go dere, though, even now an' see where she went. An' if yah very brave or very foolish, yah can go down dat stairway jus' like she did. Yah can take a torch an yah can look down inta dat pool she dived into. O' course, da pool is dry now, though, an' yah can see da doors. Da doors are open. If yah listen closely, can can hear da sound o' water drippin' very faintly somewhere very far below. Some say every now an' den yah can hear soft cryin' echoin' up, like someone lost down dere.

"But Ah wouldn' recommend goin' dere. Dat place has a funny way o' seein' dat people don' come back. T'chak was not da last person ta disappear dere. She was not da only person ta catch a glimpse o' those four pale figures. An' most people who see dem don' see anything else ever again."

Silence stretched out for perhaps a handful of minutes as the listeners disentangled themselves from the troll's soft words and the real world began to melt back in around them. People shifted, a few got up to leave. The sin'dorei resumed oiling his blade and the orc woman grunted thoughtfully, then also rose to move on about her business. She directed a slight bow of respect to Jas'ka before she slipped out of the circle of firelight and behind the curtain of her room nearby. Olkhor's eyelids were drooping heavily; he'd barely managed to stay awake for a story he'd heard before.

"Well," Galmak said quietly, and stifled a yawn. "You made a long, damp evening quite a bit more interesting."

"Thank you for the story, Jas'ka," Hyara agreed. Her eyelids were also drooping by now and she didn't feel like making the effort to raise her head from Galmak's shoulder. His hand on her waist gave her a gentle pat and he helped her stand sleepily from their seat by the fire.

Hyara recalled something her mother had told her when she was a child: the mind before bed was like a mug of hot water that you had to be careful what sort of tea leaves you steeped in it, or you might come up with something pretty unpalatable. That night, she found out once again how true that was. She dreamed of traveling through endless darkness with unseen things that slipped around her and stirred her hair as they passed. When finally dawn came, even the hushed light of the forest was a welcome relief.

* * *


	24. III: The Caravan

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**A/N**: Miraculously, I have finished writing Bloodscry! We are still a long way from the end here with Chapter 4, however, so don't get all excited. :P That does mean the updates might be a little more frequent from here on out, though.

* * *

Galmak was already awake, just sitting down to some breakfast with Olkhor. When he saw Hyara emerge from the room he started to flag down a server to order a second helping, but his mate stopped him with a shake of her head.

"I'll just share a little of yours," she said, casting a doubtful eye on the thick slice of meat cooked in the orcish fashion – that is to say, hardly cooked. Instead she took a hunk of plain toasted bread. Food on some mornings hadn't been quite the appetizing sight lately that it usually was. It was a bit odd and unfortunate, considering that the vast majority of draenei women had no trouble of this sort during pregnancy, but of course her pregnancy wasn't typical. She'd have to remember to ask Serlah if orc women often felt sick.

"Did you sleep alright, at least?" Galmak asked with a slight raise of his eyebrows. She could tell he must have been awake sometime during the night and had felt in her the hazy distress that accompanied nightmares.

"I slept fine," she reassured him, and gave her stomach a pat. "They're fine too. Don't worry."

Much to her amusement, Olkhor actually looked slightly anxious as well.

"Don't eat too much or you'll wish you hadn't," he volunteered, chewing on his breakfast.

"Draenei women don't have to worry about that usually. Do orc women?" Maybe he knew. After the fact, Hyara almost wished she hadn't asked, though. Had Olkhor been a father and watched his children leave him to join their mother in destroying their world?

But he only appeared a little uncomfortable at the question and shrugged as if to set the matter aside. "Sometimes, I guess. Learn a few things, you do, being as old as I am."

"Well, I'm not always woozy in the morning. Not often, in fact," she explained. "Just today…" She trailed off as Jas'ka emerged, stretching, from his room and sauntered off to find a server after sending a good-morning nod their way. Olkhor had already looked away with a dark mutter, but the orc woman from last night slipping furtively out of the troll's room didn't escape Hyara and Galmak's notice. Jas'ka had evidently made at least one fan.

"Fine rainy day," the troll commented as he plunked down beside Olkhor. It was hard to tell if he meant it or not, but considering he'd claimed to be accustomed to the rain in Revantusk Village, Galmak decided he must genuinely not mind the damp.

"The rain's bad enough today that there's more getting through the trees," Galmak answered, not particularly enamored with it himself. "Looks like the trails could be muddy by now. We might have a slog ahead of us if we decide to leave today."

Olkhor shrugged. "This place'll never dry out. Could wait around for months for the weather to change."

"Shattrath will be just as rainy still. We could go back to Nagrand and see more of the forest on our way there. Have you seen Nagrand yet, Jas'ka?" Hyara asked.

"Haven'," he said with a slow shake of his head, devouring half an apple in one huge bite. Hyara noticed he must have discovered a new favorite food in the bland olemba paste; he'd licked clean the bowl that had come with his breakfast. "Came down through da marsh an' inta da city. Ah'd like ta see mo' o' da forest first. Ya say we can get ta Nagrand goin' through dese trees? What direction, mon?"

"We can head out of the village roughly southwest." Galmak was speaking only from knowledge of the map he'd studied, but Olkhor's mouth was clamped firmly shut and he didn't volunteer any firsthand information. "Skirt the Bone Wastes, take the Low Path. From there it's not too far northwest to Karkun Kamil. Probably safer to go back through Shattrath and take the High Path, though," he added with a slight frown.

"Dunno, mon, heard dey's havin' trouble on da High Path an' not lettin' folks through."

"Still?" Galmak asked in surprise. He'd thought they would have had that sorted by now, a few days later. He looked to Olkhor for confirmation and the old orc nodded stiffly, reluctant to agree with anything Jas'ka said.

The Low Path would be their best way back to the cleft, then, Galmak had to agree. The most scenic as well, and it would further their goal of a last hurrah before settling in for the pregnancy and the birth of the twins.

"Dere Legion dere anymore? Heard somethin' abou' dat years ago; people gettin' sent out from Shattrath ta fight dem."

"Not really," Galmak replied. "Kil'sorrow Fortress used to be a problem from what I hear, but the Sha'tar razed it years ago."

"There's a Legion enclave in the west," Hyara added. "Nowhere near the Low Path or anywhere we're going."

" 'S a wonder Kil'sorrow survived so long," Olkhor grunted. "So close to Shattrath. Damn fools."

Jas'ka chuckled. "Yah sound almos' sorry fo' 'em."

Olkhor stared at him in speechless malice for a moment. His huge hands twitched and clenched into fists as if he were having fantasies of strangling the troll, but then he shot to his feet and stalked off without a word.

Jas'ka's lanky body slumped and curled almost comically into a ball. "Didn' mean ta antagonize him," he said shamefacedly. "Seems ta always come out wrong aroun' him. Can't say nothin' he wants ta hear."

There was no good in chastising Jas'ka, but Galmak was a little annoyed that the troll had made such a comment. Shouldn't he have learned after two weeks what Olkhor's safe subjects were?

"Olkhor's touchy about the Legion," Hyara said softly, watching the old warrior fume just outside the door of the inn. He was standing in the drizzle, staring down at the mud under his boots. He'd be soaked if he stayed there much longer, and she felt a pang of fond concern for him.

"If you want to say something right to him, ask him sometime about ogre fighting," Galmak said as he got up from the breakfast table. Hyara felt mildly worried, probably that Olkhor'd get sick standing in the rain, and he supposed he ought to do something about it.

"Ogre fighting," Jas'ka repeated with a nod. "Ah'll remembah."

"Come back inside," Galmak said from the doorway.

Olkhor looked over with a contrary grunt and a scowl, but he at least obliged to move just inside the door out of the rain. "Damn troll," he muttered.

"He didn't mean anything by it. I'm getting the idea by now he likes to run his mouth without thinking much about it," Galmak said wryly.

"He does," Olkhor agreed. "Should be used to it by now, I guess. Guess I should've known I wouldn't like being in this forest."

It might have seemed like a non sequitur to most, but Galmak understood. Olkhor got especially crotchety when dropped into places that made him uncomfortable.

"We'll be in Nagrand soon if we leave today," Galmak reminded him. It would hopefully be balm to Olkhor's mood, although there were probably plenty of buried memories there too. And then there was Karkun Kamil to worry about, with its almost entirely Broken draenei population. Galmak winced inwardly.

"Haven't traveled much for a long time," the older orc said a little defensively, as if reading Galmak's thoughts. "That trip to Azeroth was the most damn traveling I've done in twenty years or more. Now I'm doing the second most."

"Is it as bad as you remember?"

Surprisingly, Olkhor laughed. "Nah. Azeroth wasn't bad either. Most of it, anyway."

"Well, we'll leave for Nagrand today, be in the cleft in a few more days, and you can settle back down for as long as you like." He added on impulse, "Permanently, even."

"Permanently?" Olkhor grunted with a glance at Galmak, caught by surprise. "Hadn't thought about that. Hadn't thought about leaving Blade's Edge for good… I don't know if I could do it." He stared back out at the rain again, which was no longer washing down in persistent thin sheets. A touch more of the forest's usual watery light soaked through the trees; Draenor's sun was having another go at the day.

"You can think about it," Galmak said quietly. He found now that he'd mentioned the possibility of Olkhor staying at Karkun Kamil, he genuinely hoped it might happen. Their clan had been scattered across the faces of two worlds. Few enough of them still lived and it hadn't felt right when Olkhor had ridden off alone from the Barrens, eventually to return to the place where he'd tortured himself in memories for decades. Maybe now was the time for a fresh start.

They stood in silence for another moment before Olkhor broke it. "I'll think about it," he said shortly and strode off to disappear behind the curtain of his room. With a nod at the old warrior's retreating back, Galmak left to see about getting the party's animals saddled and ready to continue.

When Olkhor emerged from his room a few minutes later, it was with his pack slung over a shoulder and his chestpiece buckled firmly in place. "Time to go," he pronounced gruffly, looking as if he wouldn't hear any argument otherwise.

Jas'ka wouldn't look at him, seeming ashamed for what he'd said earlier, but the troll nodded and slunk off to retrieve his own things from his room.

Galmak was back several moments later wearing an expression of satisfaction. "There's a whole trading caravan leaving for Nagrand this morning, making for Telaar. I got us a place in it. We'll be as safe as we could hope for with thirty other people on the road."

* * *

The caravan was, if Galmak was honest with himself, something of a mess. When he'd heard about it from the stable master he'd pictured a smooth operation, a well-oiled machine, rolling into town to peddle its wares for a few days and then continuing down the trail to the next target. He'd seen caravans like that come through Karkun Kamil. Everyone had their function and they all knew how to work together.

Not so here. This was a cobbled-together operation in the extreme. As he learned from talking a little further with the de facto caravan leader, only a few of these merchants regularly traveled together. It was merely a collection of traders who'd found themselves in the same place ready to move on, and decided to move on together for safety's sake. All in all, the atmosphere was more akin to the Darkmoon Faire in full swing than a business expedition. Nobody looked like they minded the chaos either, except perhaps the animals, mostly elekk, burdened with all manner of nondescript crates, carefully packed finery or foodstuffs, and unabashed junk. Some of the animals looked like crotchety walking junkyards, truth be told, but their merchant owners shared none of their fussiness as they all finally began lumbering out of town to the west. It was a festive atmosphere, punctuated by colorful but good-natured swearing at stubborn beasts and unruly wares that refused to stay tied in their proper places.

Olkhor looked a touch discomfited and out of his element; Hyara was delighted by the quirky disorder. Jas'ka was already chatting a mile a minute with a goblin trader who sent his children scurrying to either side of the path as they traveled, scooping up fallen olemba cones. Galmak watched it all and felt a grin stretch across his face; it was a bizarre group for sure.

"How do you like it, Olkhor?" he asked, just to make mischief.

"If your Broken village is anything like this, I'm turning around now," Olkhor answered with a grunt as one of the pack elekk jostled his wolf. The wolf growled but fortunately kept his jaws to himself.

Galmak laughed. "It's not. It's quiet. No ogres; you'll probably be bored."

"I haven't been bored in a long time and I think I might like it. Getting too old to swing an axe every day. Sometimes wish I'd chosen another way to spend my days, in fact… Maybe I wouldn't feel so damned old."

Galmak only replied with a grunt, unsure what else to say. Every man chose his path one way or another, and Olkhor seemed happy enough with his later decades on most days.

"Thought about just staying at the Stronghold," he continued. "I know people there. Might not believe it, but I have friends." He threw Galmak a quick lopsided grimace. "I have a reason to be there, even if it's not so great, even if it's just chopping ogres. They'll get by without me, though, and I decided I might not get another chance like this. I weighed you, your mate, and your whelps against chopping ogres, and you won."

Suppressing a snort of laughter, Galmak nodded. "Well, good. I'm glad you decided to come. I guess the ogres are too."

"Damned right they are," Olkhor glared. "Funny to you, whelp, but ogres are a bad business up there. Damned soft Azeroth younglings…" He trailed off in a mutter, shaking his head, and slouched forward in a manner that didn't invite further conversation.

It seemed Olkhor had reached his civility quota for the time, so Galmak spurred his wolf up the line to walk beside Hyara's horse. She often chose to ride a bit removed when they traveled with Olkhor, giving Galmak the chance to coax what conversation he could from his clansman.

"Have you noticed that man up there?" she asked, pointing further up the caravan to a big grey elekk loaded with a pile of tauren-woven rugs that was nearly half as high as the animal itself.

"What man?" Galmak asked. He leaned to the left and craned his neck to spot someone leading the elekk.

"Exactly," Hyara said with a mischievous smile. "Look closer."

He did, and laughed in disbelief when he finally saw what she meant. There was a tiny, cave-like opening at the back of the rugs, which Galmak could now see (when he ducked) had another opening out the front. It was apparently supported by some kind of framework that held up the pile of rugs, and there was a goblin sitting inside.

"Now that's efficient packing," Galmak said. "He packed himself. At least we know he won't get wet."

"We don't know how he gets out, though," she said. "But I'll be watching."

"Whatcha be watchin'?" called Jas'ka from behind them.

"Nothing," Hyara answered mysteriously and grinned.

"Aww…. Then Ah not be tellin' you what Ah heard from dis guy." The troll rolled his shoulders and slouched back casually on his raptor, pretending unconcern, but he was clearly bursting to tell someone.

Galmak yawned and swiveled back around to the front. Hyara stared up at the treetops, watching the misty light drift slowly downward with the faint drizzle.

The troll growled and slapped a knee. "A'righ', Ah tell yah anyway. Brizz here says dey be pickin' up some more travelers down da road. Dese travelers got a full herd o' domesticated talbuk!"

"A _herd_…?" Hyara exchanged an incredulous look with her husband. "What's a herd of talbuk doing out here, and how are they going to herd it through these trees?"

"These professionals make it their business to herd their animals under any conditions, young lady," Brizz said in a bored tone, seeming more interested in keeping his eyes on his children than the conversation he'd been having with Jas'ka. "It's their livelihood. No meat to Nagrand, no money for them."

"But where did they come from?" Hyara pressed. "And as far as I know, there are plenty of talbuk already in Nagrand."

"There are," Brizz answered impatiently, "but these are domesticated, which makes 'em special. Ever heard of _domesticated_ talbuk herds in Nagrand, eh?"

She hadn't, nor any domesticated talbuk herds anywhere. She and Galmak had joined many a talbuk hunting party from Karkun Kamil that would supply the village's meat for the week. It would certainly make life a little easier to have a stationary herd nearby to fill the demand for meat, but surely they'd encounter many of the same problems the orcs and tauren had when they'd first begun to bring domesticated animals into the Barrens?

As if reading her thoughts, Brizz continued, "Anyway, these talbuk aren't staying in Nagrand. There's bigger money than that to be made. They're getting pushed on down the road to Aeris Landing, where the Consortium'll move 'em off-world."

Galmak felt a little sense of his own relief mirrored in Hyara; neither one of them had any desire to see Nagrand's wilds become over-grazed, domesticated farmland.

"What idiot would domesticate talbuk anyway?" Olkhor grumbled from behind the goblin. "They'd get fat. They get fat, they're no good. Anybody who's lived any time on Draenor would know wild talbuk's best."

Brizz squinted an eye appraisingly at the old orc and sneered, "I've lived here off and on for ten years now and I do know that, buddy. These guys raising 'em know it too. You can bet the Consortium knows it. Like I said, these animals are going off-world."

"Idiots," Hyara heard Olkhor grunt before pointedly turning away from the conversation. She raised an eyebrow at Galmak; what in the worlds had they been talking about, to send Olkhor into such a slump? Her mate only rolled his eyes, as if to say it was just Olkhor being Olkhor. He _had_ seemed in an unusually decent mood for the past two days; perhaps it simply couldn't last.

"Ah hear talbuk have horns longer den yours," Jas'ka said with a wide grin and a wink at Hyara. "An' more hooves too. Ah be curious now."

She gave him a somewhat aloof smile, not particularly sure she liked being compared to some kind of goat, but his grin was infectious. It was hard to take Jas'ka at his word; half the time he didn't seem to consider what was coming out of his mouth until after he'd said it, if even then.

Daylight faded rapidly toward the faint green glow of night in the forest. The caravan pressed on for surprisingly long after sundown, the merchants eager to reach their next big stop. Eventually, though, the leader called a halt and the train straggled to one side of the road where everyone began to set up a makeshift camp for the night. Organization was slim; squabbles occasionally erupted over campsites or dry firewood. Tempers were running toward frayed after a long day of damp travel and gloom. After some time of bustle, unpacking, and tending to the animals, everyone settled down around their separate fires like fussy hens coming to roost. Galmak, Hyara, Olkhor, and Jas'ka had chosen a spot toward the heart of the little constellation of campsites where they could benefit from the surrounding warm glow of the other fires. Terokkar's dreamy light was beautiful, but warmth in a place like this was a state of mind as much as a physical condition, and the combined light of the campfires helped combat the perpetual feeling of cold.

And cold it was, more so tonight than any other they'd yet spent in the forest. The day's drizzle had paused sometime after sundown, but just as the campfire had begun to catch and leap higher on the dry tinder, Hyara noticed a few white flakes gusting down between the trees. It was the season's first snow in the forest. The group huddled together to eat their supper and watch the snowflakes vanish in the fire's small circle of warmth.

"Like ghosts," Jas'ka commented on the drifting white flakes. "Like anothah story Ah know…"

"Doesn't know anything but damn ghost stories, far as I can tell," Olkhor grunted sourly.

Jas'ka frowned. "Ah do. Ah know hundreds o' stories. But da ghost stories of mah people are like nothin' else. Dey one o' our specialties, yah could say."

"Well, save your specialty. We need our sleep." To illustrate his point, the old orc spread his bedroll near the fire and laid down determinedly.

"He jus' jealous," Jas'ka confided to Galmak and Hyara. "Can't tell a story like Ah can. If he even tried, folks would run away screamin' from all da bile comin' dere way."

"He has a point about the sleep, though," Galmak said through a yawn.

"Boring bunch tonight," the troll grumbled as he started laying out his own place to sleep. "Ah maybe tell yah somethin' tomorrow night. Make all dis travelin' more interesting."

Morning brought grey light seeping between the leaves and revealed no trace of last night's snow. The ground was damp; the animals stamped and steamed as the caravan set about reversing its actions of the night before in preparation to continue. Amid the morning confusion, Brizz was poring over a map nearby. Hyara sauntered over to have a look. The goblin glanced up as she approached and then bent over the map again to made a tiny black dot at their current location on the trail.

"Here we are," he volunteered. "Here's our talbuk guys, over here." He made a second mark near a symbol that looked like an orcish building.

"A town, then," Hyara commented, and the goblin nodded.

"It'll take all day to get over there, damn it. Late already. Hope they don't decide I'm not coming." He grimaced, likely imagining a sizeable profit draining away.

"Who else would they sell to?" the hunter asked somewhat rhetorically. She hadn't exactly seen scads of traffic in the forest.

"Yeah, yeah," he said with a slight glare, but he seemed to brighten at the reminder. "Anyway, we'll be goin' nearer the Bone Wastes today. Might want to keep a sharper lookout 'cause it's a little rougher territory. You any good with that bow?"

She arched an eyebrow at him coolly in reply.

"Alright, good. We're most of us that I know of pretty capable ourselves, but ya never know." He let the map roll up with a snap and then tied it with a leather cord. "Now, if those lugs at the front are ready to move their asses…" Without another look at her, he waddled off toward the front of the line to see what the holdup was.

Galmak was running a little slow himself that morning. His timber wolf had managed to get a sharp twig stuck in his paw; a clean, small wound, easily taken care of, but it had necessitated finding a healer for a quick fix. Finally, his wolf's wound patched up, he nudged his mount over to the line beside Hyara.

She was staring intently up the caravan. "I missed him last night, but I'm going to catch him now," she said.

Galmak followed her gesture and recognized the goblin they'd seen yesterday who inhabited the rug cave on elekk-back. The rugs, along with the cave itself, were already loaded, but the goblin was slouched nearby talking with a fellow merchant. After a moment he turned around and yanked on a thick rope dangling at chest height and attached in some invisible fashion to the rug pile above. The rope snaked to the ground, and as if by magic, several of the rugs lying draped on one side of the pile rose like a hatch and a rope ladder spilled out. The goblin scurried up the ladder and disappeared like a beaver into a dam. A few seconds later, the rope ladder slithered inside after him and the rug hatch thumped shut.

The observing orc and draenei exchanged a grin.

"I assumed he'd need help in and out," Hyara said, impressed.

"Pretty clever," Galmak agreed. "He gets none of the weather in there and he only needs one animal to carry himself and his wares." He paused, considering the whole contraption with a speculative gleam in his eye. "That's actually not a bad business for a traveling family. A big elekk with that kind of arrangement on top could carry you and the twins when they're born… Not so many rugs on top, of course; waterproof hides instead, maybe… maybe some bigger windows for you, some bars or something on the sides to keep the children in when they get older…"

"You mean a _cage_?" Hyara pointed out in amused disbelief. "You want to put your wife and children inside a walking cage?"

Galmak's sudden burst of laughter startled a nearby pack mule and sent it dancing off the path, which inspired a fit of hearty cursing from its draenei owner.

"Alright, maybe I'll have to rethink the bars," the orc conceded once he could speak again. "We'll have to keep the children safely inside somehow, though."

"Well, think about it then," she said with a grin. "But no bars."

"No bars," Galmak agreed, laughing, but a moment later Hyara could tell he was absorbed in mental plans and eyeballed estimated measurements. She smiled to herself, enjoying the feeling of absorption and concentration in him. There was something comforting and tender about the way he liked to apply his engineering skills toward solutions for their little family.

* * *


	25. III: Midnight Complications

* * *

Finally the caravan was ready for the day's travel and resumed its stately pace. By the time three hours had passed, Jas'ka had already observed twice that Brizz seemed to have ants in his pants. The goblin was continually shifting around impatiently atop his elekk, occasionally bouncing comically and craning his neck in a futile attempt to see what at the front of the line was causing the steady, plodding pace. It was nothing, of course – only the customary disorganization of a merchant caravan traveling a narrow road through a thick forest.

As noon neared, the trees began to thin slightly to the south. Across the stretch of forest they could see patches of what looked like white sand, stark and gleaming in the sun. The bright sand was a curious and startling sight after days of muted green light and deep shadows. The trees seemed darker by comparison, the undergrowth denser and the terrain rockier. Wind swept in off the sand in fitful gusts, carrying grit and a dry, singed tang that made Galmak's skin prickle uneasily. Something in the back of his head whispered of shadow magic gone horribly awry. Even the sounds of wildlife were fewer here, as if most creatures preferred to live further in, away from the Bone Wastes.

Watchfulness gripped the caravan and mutterings of bandits circulated in hushed voices; raiders sometimes staged their operations along this stretch of road because of its proximity to the wastes. The caravan's few children now rode or walked sedately near their parents, eyes just as alert as the adults'. Weapons were loosened in their sheaths, guns and bows were brought to the ready in their owners' hands. Nearby, concealed by the undergrowth, Palla and Gink sniffed the acrid wind for any scent of danger. They'd had no sign so far of anything but wildlife near the path for the entire journey.

"Dere's ruins over dere, ya know," Jas'ka said wisely, nodding his head toward the wastes. "Heard about it. Big ole city o' da dead. Lots o' dead people from some explosion– "

"We know," Olkhor grated out. "Shut your yap and watch out for live people who want to make us dead."

Brizz shushed them both impatiently, which made Olkhor bristle at the implication that he might be as much an annoyance as Jas'ka. At the head of the line, the caravan leader had ordered a brisker pace as they passed the Bone Wastes and they all urged their mounts to a faster walk in compliance. A few elekk and pack mules protested and their owners did their best to silence them.

While Galmak scanned the thinned trees toward the desert, Hyara ran her eyes over the forest to their right. Although it was just after noon, the shadows were deep. Green light drifted like a veil and washed the distance in a murky glow that played tricks on the eyes. A few times she thought she saw something moving in a rough match to their pace; once the movement neared slightly, breaking into brighter light from a rare clearing in the trees, and revealed the fuzzy yellow body of a teromoth.

"It's hard to see through the glare," Galmak said in a low voice. The grey-white sand through the dark trees was proving a strain on everyone's eyes.

"Which is why bandits usually attack from that way, rather than hiding in the forest," Brizz clipped out, squinting furiously in the same direction as the orc.

"The forest isn't much– " Hyara began, but she stopped abruptly and her hand shot out to squeeze Galmak's arm. "There," she breathed, pointing slowly and casually through the trees.

She'd seen movement again, and this time she'd been certain it wasn't a teromoth. Well into the trees, a huge fallen trunk lay almost perpendicular to the path. Splintered roots jutted upward to twice her own height and cast deep grey shadows on the surrounding forest floor. She was sure she'd seen something creep from behind those roots, only to melt away once her eyes traveled in that direction.

Galmak stared in the direction she pointed and let his senses roam outward. There was something… maybe. He glanced at Hyara, feeling her slight confusion as well. His eyes slid back to the fallen trunk and were met abruptly by another set of eyes, gold and peering out from the greenish darkness. A glimpse of tawny fur and then the creature was gone even from the hunters' seeking senses.

"A wolf?" Hyara whispered uncertainly.

Galmak frowned and cocked his head, still searching. There really was nothing there now, the animal completely faded out of reach into the distance.

"Maybe," he replied and glanced around reflexively. Palla, and presumably Gink, was still well on the other side of the path toward the wastes. The hunters' brief observation had gone unnoticed by Brizz, who was still concentrating his gaze toward the sand, but Olkhor and Jas'ka behind them were staring toward where Hyara had pointed.

"Couldn'ta been nothin', " Jas'ka said bracingly.

"It was an animal of some sort," Galmak said. "Maybe a wolf. We saw several on our way to Stonebreaker Hold and they're supposed to be pretty common in the forest."

"Strange color for a wolf," Olkhor grunted quietly. Galmak and Hyara privately agreed, but there was no further sign of whatever it had been and it seemed to have moved on by now regardless.

A palpable ease in tension rippled through the caravan when at last after several hours' travel the glimpses of sand between the trees became less frequent. The Bone Wastes were fading behind as the trail diverged and dived further back into the forest. They'd continue following the contour of the wastes for some time still, but danger from that direction decreased with the distance. The waste's raiders, Brizz explained, were better equipped for fighting in more open areas and a touch superstitious, and didn't like to come far into the forest. With luck, the caravan need only worry now about the usual dangers that lurked between the trees.

When darkness descended in the late afternoon and there was still no sign of the village, Hyara began to wonder just how slowly they'd been traveling. The forest was clearly much larger than she'd known. Brizz, however, seemed unworried for the first time that day – maybe he'd been anticipating troublesome delays near the wastes and had relaxed when nothing had materialized.

Nudging her horse closer to Galmak, she wrapped a blanket tighter and strained her eyes to see up ahead. Only the caravan's lanterns, bobbing along like luminescent fish in the dark stream of the forest trail, were visible as signs of civilization.

"Can you see anything?" she asked her husband in a hushed voice.

Galmak too was peering up the line, his eyes focused on some dark point well ahead of the party. "I think so. A very faint light; it might be a bonfire at this distance."

After another ten minutes' travel, those without orcish eyes could see what the forest had conspired to hide from them until they were almost upon it.

"Ogres," Hyara breathed in shock. There were a dozen of them visible, their huge bodies throwing ink-black shadows in the red light of a bonfire in the courtyard of a small village. Although the village was small, the clay buildings weren't, scattered in loose clusters across the clearing and built to more than twice the scale of the orcish dwellings they resembled.

And there were Brizz's talbuk, sleeping peacefully or milling around a small enclosure just west of the village. It looked like a herd of only about twenty-five head.

Brizz slid from his elekk's back and scurried to meet a gigantic ogre who had detached from the group in the courtyard and was approaching the caravan. The ogre's heads had had three eyes between them at one time, but now he was left with only one good eye and two very sour smiles, which he directed at the goblin.

"You come not so soon as you say," the ogre announced in a voice that seemed to make the trees rumble in sympathy. "We thinking you not coming after all."

"There was rain," Brizz said dismissively, nodding his head as he silently counted the nearby herd.

"There always rain," the ogre laughed, as if the goblin had made a joke. "We stay the night now and delay for Nagrand. Consortium not be happy."

"Consortium'll be plenty happy after their profits roll in from this. Here." The goblin waved a fist that only reached to the ogre's knee. The ogre extended a hand and caught the solid clunk of gold in his ham-sized fist, then brought it up close to his nose to examine his take.

"All here?" he asked, counting laboriously.

"All there," Brizz nodded. "Along with your pay for herding them. We'll stay tonight. Don't think this lot would move even if we were inclined." He flicked a thumb toward the caravan, which the ogre studied for a moment with his one beady eye.

"Da ogres friendlier here dan in Blade's Edge?" Jas'ka asked in a suspicious whisper.

"Some are, I guess," Galmak whispered back, swiveling around for a look at his clansman. Rather than the ferocious frown Galmak had feared, Olkhor's face wore a blank mask. Only his reddish eyes betrayed any emotion, darting around coldly to take in the details of the village before them. Galmak decided he would rather have seen outright anger.

"I guess we have no choice but to stay here," the younger orc continued, "since it looks like everyone else is." The rest of the caravan was already breaking apart into its customary tiny camps, although it looked as if people were lingering a little closer together tonight. Olkhor was perhaps not the only one disturbed to be camping at an ogre village.

Olkhor's silence persisted as they set up their own camp and lit a fire. Galmak watched him closely, spreading the last blanket over a tiny sleeping tent, and then nudged the old warrior to pull him a bit beyond the ring of their firelight, away from the others.

"You alright?" Galmak asked awkwardly, even as he realized any question he asked would probably only worsen Olkhor's mood.

As expected, Olkhor glared. "Fine. Just great, setting up to sleep close to these beefy animals."

"We haven't got much choice," Galmak pointed out. "We came with this caravan so we'd be safer. Would you rather move off on our own and have the ogres know where we went? Besides, Brizz trusts them enough to do business with them."

"Goblins'll do business with anyone, which you know damn well." Even in the low firelight Galmak could tell the old orc's face had darkened with anger. A subsonic growl built in the back of Olkhor's throat. "These beasts aren't above taking female prisoners, did you know that? Willing to take that risk, huh?"

Galmak scowled and now his own throat rumbled with a growl. "I don't take stupid risks. We came on this whole trip with the intention of staying safe and minding our own business, and staying safe doesn't include wandering off on our own right now in the dead of night through unfamiliar forest."

"But staying safe does include trusting a lot of damned, puny-brained ogres not to do what they do best, which is kill people!" the old orc huffed.

"Look at this place, Olkhor. It's a village, not a raiding band. They raise talbuk here. I can smell turned earth, so they must have gardens somewhere nearby. There are probably women and children around. These ogres won't be dangerous unless they think we are. Can't you get over your damn suspicions for a night?"

"I've seen what these things can do. They murdered what was left of your clan. Did you forget that, whelp?"

"Am I supposed to believe it's been revenge driving you all these years? I think you're just too damned set in your ways to believe that things are different here. We don't have anything to worry about from these ogres and that's final, as far as I'm concerned. Go off on your own if you want."

The two orcs were standing close to each other, leaning forward menacingly with eyes locked. After a moment Olkhor's growl broke into a snarl and he whirled away.

"Alright," he spat. "Have it your way. On your head if these animals decide to murder us in our sleep."

Galmak glared at the old orc's turned back, more angry that he had to clash with one of his few remaining clansmen than at Olkhor's stubbornness. Jas'ka, who Galmak now saw had been watching the two orcs closely, sidled over and gave the hunter a significant look.

"He gon' be trouble, mon?" the troll asked quietly.

Galmak shrugged, feeling loyalty to Olkhor over a mere acquaintance despite their heated exchange. "He's got some problems with being here, but I think we'll make it through one night."

Olkhor didn't leave as Galmak had suggested, instead settling down sullenly at the campfire to pick at his dinner. Galmak was glad he hadn't left, of course, and admitted to himself that he would have gone after him to talk him into staying. Recognizing the old warrior's foul mood, Hyara struck up a conversation about the one subject that seemed invariably to cheer him: the twins. In this case it was a miscalculation, however. The reminder of the two additional tiny people who might be in danger here only soured his mood further. Hyara eventually trailed to a halt with an inward sigh after Olkhor had sent his third significant glare between Galmak and the nearby ogre village.

The awkward silence lasted a few minutes before Jas'ka suddenly spoke up. "Ogres not be so bad anyway, mon. Least dey only chop yah up an' spill yah blood. A quick death, an' den da earth can reclaim yah properly. Dere be worse things can happen." Galmak shot the troll a warning look – more discussion of ogres was not what Olkhor needed to hear right now – but Jas'ka was staring absently toward the darkness of the trees and didn't notice.

"Used ta have a friend…" The troll's sharp eyes focused abruptly on the group in front of him and darted around the circle of faces. His voice dropped low and he looked furtively toward the nearest campfire to theirs, well out of hearing range. Olkhor growled and rolled his eyes in disgust. "A friend," Jas'ka repeated, nodding, "dead now… if he be lucky. Ran afoul o' an ole witch doctor in da mountains. Ya see, mah friend liked his drink a little too much. He bought all he could, but when he didn' have da silver, he begged it or stole it. Everybody knew him around da village an' nobody paid 'im much mind except when 'ee been at da stealin' again.

"One day 'ee heard about a still up in da mountains, belongin' to an ole witch doctor, an' he thought, what could be easier dan stealin' from it up dere where dere nobody ta see? Ah tol' him not ta go. Ah heard things about dat ole voodoo man, yah see, things everybody in da village knew. We all knew ta stay away. Mah friend knew it too, but dat thirst he had was powerful. 'Ee left in da night wit'out tellin' nobody. Ah followed him when Ah found he'd left an' Ah got dere just at sunrise ta see dat filthy little hut nestled in among da black trees dat wouldn' let da light in… An' yah know what Ah saw when Ah got dere, pokin' mah eyes from behind a tree? Dere was somethin' red and slimy on da ground in front o' da hut, staked to da ground with a twisty carved tree branch. Da thing was about da size o' mah fist an' it was movin'. Dat thing was beatin' just like a heart. An' den Ah heard screams comin' from inside da hut, an' anothah voice talkin' low like chantin'. Ah never saw mah friend again."

"Well, that's just fine," Olkhor said with a wrinkle of his nose and a powerful sneer. "Left your friend to die, didn't you. Glad you don't call me a friend. Unlike you, I look out for the people around me, even the ones too dumb to know when they need looking out for."

"Bed," Galmak announced grumpily as he got to his feet, ignoring the sneer that was now directed at him. Getting some sleep was his intention, anyway; Hyara could follow if she chose. He for one had no desire to sit any longer around the fire staring at Olkhor's sour face.

Galmak lay sleepless, staring up at the coarse blue threads of their blanket roof only inches above. Hyara's warmth filled the tiny space beside him, her breathing soft and regular in the darkness, and he thought she must be asleep already. They were nearly out of the forest after tonight, thank the gods. His instinct told him, having studied maps, that they couldn't be far from the border with Nagrand. Back in warm autumn sun, open land, grass and only sparse trees. Maybe moods would improve; maybe Olkhor would be less his old self. Galmak scowled in the darkness, remembering how the day had ended.

"He feels powerless, love," Hyara whispered through a yawn beside him, and he realized how far into his own dark mood he'd been not to notice that her feel held no sense of sleep. "He has no control over the decisions you make, or I make, or that I allow you to make for me and the twins. He's found his clan again and he doesn't want to lose you… us."

Galmak only replied with a soft kiss to her lips and soon he felt her drift away into sleep. It surprised him how much it bothered him to argue with Olkhor now, after he'd felt they'd reached an understanding that went past all their initial clashes. _At least we argue over the right things now_, he admitted to himself. Olkhor got angry and surly now because he actually cared about something besides wallowing in his own misery and bitterness.

Hours later a light whisper, rather than Palla's careful touch to his mind, jarred him from sleep.

"Psst, mon." Jas'ka's voice carried to him from outside the tiny tent. Hyara stirred but Galmak soothed her with a kiss and a careful tuck of the blanket against the cold as he slid outside, and he felt her mind drift back into sleep.

The troll stood beside the embers of the fire, lanky body wired with uneasiness. "Mon," he said again, and hesitated, glancing apprehensively toward the rest of the sleeping caravan and the ogre village beyond.

"What," Galmak whispered, attempting to frown and yawn at the same time.

"Dunno where O'khor wen'," he blurted quietly. "Saw 'im sneakin' off. Couldn' get 'im ta tell me what he was doin', couldn' stop 'im."

Galmak swore under his breath and stared toward the ogre village, cloaked in a veil of greenish light that troubled even an orc's night vision. "How long ago?"

"Ten minutes, mebbe." The troll noted his gaze and hastened to add, "Don' think he was goin' to da village… didn' go dat direction. He went ovah dat way. Took his axe." He gestured toward the trees standing behind the caravan's camp to the south, banded in black shadows and obscuring pools of sickly green glow.

"Why the fuck didn't you wake me sooner," Galmak growled low, reaching down to slide out his bow resting just inside the little tent. He grabbed up an axe as well, glanced briefly inside to assure himself that Hyara still slept soundly, and jogged off into the woods without another look at the troll.

From what he could see and hear, all was silent in the ogre village. That at least was encouraging; it meant that Olkhor hadn't yet done something monumentally stupid.

A questioning sense entered his mind from somewhere to the north on the other side of the camp, and he answered Palla, _I'm going to look for Olkhor. He's disappeared and I'm worried what he'll do around these ogres._ She was beyond the bounds of thought-speech, but she would catch most of his meaning anyway. A moment later he felt his wolf beginning to move slowly in his direction.

The forest stood black and green around him. He moved carefully in near silence, pushing through the undergrowth and examining what ground and foliage he could for signs of the warrior's presence not long ago. Olkhor would have left traces; subtlety was not one of his strong suits. The forest's night sounds surrounded the hunter, oblivious to or uncaring of the interloper. The cold breeze blew desultorily, rustling the black and silver-green lattice of leaves above his head. All seemed quiet, yet Galmak's instincts told him trouble was near. Hopefully he could find Olkhor before it was too late.

After traveling for ten minutes, however, the hunter could see nothing to indicate the recent passage of another orc. The brush here seemed undisturbed by anything but small animals. There were a few less recent signs that ogres occasionally came this way. It had been twenty minutes now by Jas'ka's reckoning and Olkhor might have gotten a decent way into the forest, but Galmak was certain the old orc would have left evidence.

_It's dark_, he admitted to himself. _But more likely Jas'ka was wrong about the direction_.

Galmak was on the verge of turning around to begin his search anew, when a broken branch caught his eye. Something heavy, possibly an orcish boot, had snapped it very recently and crushed a leaf into the bark. Shifting his body around to block as much of the green light as possible – his eyes were far more effective if left to do their work in darkness, rather than deceptive, oddly-colored half-light – he stooped to examine his find.

The swish of fur against grass was all the warning he had. Galmak's head shot up, just at the same moment catching a new scent as the wind shifted, and his eyes locked for an instant on another pair of eyes, gold in the darkness. A flurry of tawny fur, and then something slammed into his chest, knocking him backward to send him crunching into the prickly outstretched arms of a dead bush. He rolled away with a grunt, grabbing for his bow, an arrow, his axe… The axe lay ten feet away where a huge paw had swiped it in one vicious blow, well out of reach. His side was already beginning to ache where claws had gouged him; his belt hung in tatters and there were deep scores in the leather of his pants at the thigh.

The animal had faded away. Galmak heaved himself up, panting and with arrow nocked, and stared around at the seemingly deserted forest. Carefully, he sidestepped over to the axe and slowly knelt to grab it.

It was bait the creature took. There was a rustle behind him, but this time Galmak was prepared. He spun around, the bow flashed up, and the arrow flew to land with a wet thud in the thing's shoulder.

It was a huge cat, Galmak could see now, and it looked oddly familiar, but that was a thought his brain shoved immediately aside as the arrow failed to stop the beast. With the rest of his arrows lying scattered out of reach, the axe still on the ground where he'd left it, and his bow hanging useless in his hands, Galmak's mind grasped eagerly for the one powerful weapon left to him.

Shadow flooded into his being, bringing him relief and pleasure that would have horrified him at any other time. It came swift as lightning and strong as a downpour, erupting from his hands at the cat in a burst of crackling darkness that seemed to suck the green light out of the forest around him. With a surprised snarl and a snap of its jaws, the cat flew through the air in a reverse of its pounce to smash stunned and motionless against a tree trunk.

Breathing hard with the dark, heady power slowly draining away and the red blaze fading from his eyes, Galmak gathered his dropped weapons and approached the stunned animal cautiously. As he neared, the creature opened one gold eye and hissed at the raised bow in the orc's hands. Blood trickled from the shoulder wound where the arrow had pierced it; the tawny fur was blackened around the throat from the shadow magic.

"You're what we saw on the road those few times," Galmak spoke quietly as he eyed the creature warily. "Not a wolf at all…"

The light shifted then; the tawny fur stretched strangely and the air shimmered and wavered. Galmak jumped back a step in alarm and tautened the bowstring further. Where the injured cat had lain against the tree, a tauren now slumped, staring up at the orc with a weary, brown-eyed glare.

"Don't shoot," the druid rasped. "You win, orc."

Recognition hit Galmak like a blow to the chest. "Lahgga," he gasped.

The tauren heaved a breath of air into his singed throat and started to reply, but Galmak never heard it. Something cut into his back like an icy blade, spreading paralysis and pain. It brought fear and a sense of hatred, a feeling of entrapment and bitterness. Something that felt like cold hands gripped him as he slid stiffly to the ground. As his eyes turned upward to the canopy and his back lowered to rest on the forest floor, the greenish glow of the trees around him was drowned in a wavering blue haze. It was a face hovering above him, but the lines were blurred as a painting washed in a rainstorm. _Palla_… he called out desperately to his wolf speeding toward him, but she was still too far.

As unconsciousness closed in, Galmak wondered what strange beings had come to Lahgga's aid.

*******

Olkhor rounded a clay building cautiously. It was the last one he'd check. The ogre village was silent around him, excepting only the ordinary sounds of a village at night. The talbuk grunted in their pen, the wind sighed softly and leaves rustled. He heard the occasional deep, earthquake-like snore from a sleeping ogre inside a house. But without a doubt, he'd heard no sobbing. No cries, no screams, no sounds of violence.

He growled softly to himself in black annoyance, carefully skirting an ogre watchman at the outer edge of the village – stupid creature, didn't even turn to watch behind him – and decided once and for all that that idiot troll must have been mistaken. There was no orcish female prisoner here. He'd seen ogre women and ogre children. It was just as Galmak had said – only a quiet village sleeping the night away and trusting their dumb brute guards to keep them safe from a suspicious caravan full of greedy merchants.

* * *


	26. III: One Night in Terokkar

* * *

A/N: Zomg, I got a new computer. I can see actual shadows now, not round grey blobs on the ground. And rain no longer = corpse run! YAY!

* * *

At first, Hyara thought it had been the nightmare that woke her, breathing evil thoughts into her mind of Galmak in danger, Galmak in pain and confused. And it might have been, in fact, but then her eyes flew open in response to her whispered name.

"'Yara," someone was saying quietly outside the tent. Her hand shot out to her side. Galmak was gone. His presence pulsed in the back of her mind, holding the feel of sleep, and yet… Sick fear turned her stomach over as she realized it wasn't quite sleep she was feeling from him, but something deeper and altogether unrestful.

"'Yara," came the voice again, and she scrambled outside. Jas'ka was kneeling close, features long and angular in the sickly light.

"Where's Galmak? What's going on?" she demanded in a whisper.

"O'khor disappeared. He wen' off lookin' fo' him into da forest. Dat was a bit ago an' he hasn' come back."

Hyara cursed, sick with worry by now that the nightmare had been the truth. "Why didn't you go with him?" she accused, gathering up her weapons and searching her mind for Gink's presence. He was far to the south, in the direction Jas'ka had indicated Galmak had taken. She needed to get closer fast; maybe Gink could tell her what had happened.

"Tol' me ta stay heah and keep an eye on you," the troll answered with a frown as he snatched up his daggers.

That was reasonable, she supposed, but… damn that stubborn man. He should have woken her.

They slipped off into the dark trees with barely a whisper of the leaves around them, moving fast as they could through the thick undergrowth. Jas'ka could point out the direction he'd seen Galmak take, but he warned that he had no idea if the orc had kept to a straight line. That didn't matter to Hyara. She could feel him somewhere far ahead and she knew she could find him. Gink seemed relatively near him as well, which probably meant Palla was also nearby. Perhaps he'd injured himself out here, fallen and hit his head? Frightening as that thought was, she could only wish it were true – her instinct told her it was something far worse. If it had been an injury alone, Palla or Gink would have returned by now to find help. She needed to talk to her cat, and soon. Hyara pushed faster through the brush, ignoring Jas'ka's admonitions that they were making too much noise now.

Night was deeper than ever out here, away from even the meager clearing the trail and village provided. They pushed along without speaking for several minutes, but Jas'ka's uneasiness was apparent.

"How yah know he went dis way?" the troll asked eventually. "Can' see nothin' out heah. You must be a good tracker."

"He's this way," she said grimly, and resumed her silence. Jas'ka's muttering was lost in the swish of vegetation.

Only a moment later, Hyara felt Gink's presence moving rapidly closer and she cheered inwardly with relief. Gink would surely know something of what was going on.

"My cat's coming," she said softly as they continued. "He may know what's happened."

They were deep in the forest now. The sky with its nether glow was completely obscured; the only light came from the eerie green vegetation and the soft silver-blue glow of Hyara's eyes. She knew she would have had no success tracking her mate if not for their bond, and it was difficult enough not breaking a leg from one ill-placed hoof. Jas'ka followed closely with an occasional muttered curse as his huge bare feet came down on a sharp twig or rock. Gink was near now and Hyara felt the familiar sensation of being just on the edge of their thought-speech. Another moment and she'd learn what had happened to Galmak.

"Dis be far enough," Jas'ka said suddenly behind her, his voice full of irritation.

"He's still ahead," Hyara hissed in reply. "Go back if you– "

A long arm snaked around her, yanking her backward and pressing a dagger hard against her throat. Jas'ka's soft, grim chuckle creaked in her ear as his free hand snatched the axe from her belt and flung it away with a rustle to be lost in the bushes. She stood frozen and stiff against him, already feeling a warm trickle dripping down her throat where the dagger bit her skin.

"Now," the troll whispered and brushed a hand down her tail. "We gonna go on jus' a little further. Yah gonna be quiet an' yah gonna tell yah kitty ta be nice, or yah whelps might not see daylight."

She nodded almost imperceptibly, not daring to move much for fear of the dagger. Gink had stopped short of them. He was crouched in the bushes just ahead and slightly to the east where he could see and hear all that went on. Hyara could tell her cat's body was quivering with shock and rage, a growl beginning in the back of his throat, but the dagger against his mistress's neck kept him in check.

_Stay back, Gink. Stay where he can't see you. You might get a chance to spring_.

He acknowledged with a furious mental snarl.

Jas'ka grabbed her bow away roughly, then the arrows, and they too followed her axe into the bushes. She felt Gink slide silently over to the spot where they'd landed and mark the bush so she could find them later… if there ever was a later. She gave her cat an affectionate mental pat and then stumbled forward as Jas'ka shoved her, still keeping the dagger pressed hard into her flesh. He shifted his grip so they could walk and now put one lanky arm around her side with the dagger curving in against her stomach. It was far worse than having it pressed against her throat and she bit her lip to keep it from trembling.

"Jus' keep right on goin' girly," the troll whispered, and she tried to ignore the way his free hand slid over her breast as he reached to shove her again.

_Oh Gink, the babies_…

_I'm going to rip his throat out first chance I get_.

She didn't doubt that he meant it very literally. Bracing herself with an effort, she asked, _What's happened to Galmak?_

There was a sense of hesitation and uncertainty from her cat, and she instantly despaired of knowing the truth until they'd reached her mate.

_I can't say exactly_, Gink admitted. _I_ _didn't get there until most everything had already happened. I think he fought a tauren, someone he seemed to recognize_… More hesitation. _Then there were others there too_.

A tauren? Others? The only tauren she knew of that Galmak would recognize in a dark forest was his old friend Chetvek, and it was highly improbable that Chetvek would be out here, let alone fight with Galmak. Of course, Chetvek couldn't be the only tauren Galmak knew, but Hyara had never met any of the others.

She dismissed that puzzle for the moment. _Who were these others?_

_They smelled cold. Hard to see. I… I don't think they were alive_.

A chill settled over her. Galmak had been injured fighting a tauren and then he'd been dragged away by some…_thing_ that made its home in this dark, cursed forest. Jas'ka was still steering her in the direction she could feel Galmak's fitful, reedy unconsciousness; the troll was probably bringing her to the same place.

_Why?_

* * *

When Olkhor returned to the caravan camp, he had every intention of dumping the nearest bucket of cold water over that damned troll's head. He'd gone prowling off through an ogre village in the dead of night in search of a prisoner who most definitely wasn't there, and he wanted some kind of explanation. Jas'ka had been nothing but a pain in the ass starting weeks ago, but this time he'd gone too far.

The warrior stumbled the length of the camp in the dark until he identified the red, dying embers of their campfire, surrounded by his own bedroll and the silly little tent Galmak and his mate sometimes slept in. So angry was he, and trying to cool down so he wouldn't do something to wake the whole caravan and the ogres, that it was a moment before he realized the rumpled blankets comprising Jas'ka's bedroll were empty. Hesitantly he lifted a corner of the tent, only to find it empty as well. Everyone was gone.

"What the fuck," Olkhor growled to himself, glaring around at the dark forest. The two riding wolves were sleeping on the ground nearby, curled close together for warmth; Hyara's horse snorted lightly in sleep, head drooping. Even Jas'ka's raptor was still here.

With another curse, Olkhor dropped to his bedroll and poked the fire to coax the embers to flare higher. They'd all decided to run off on some fool errand, had they? Maybe it was Jas'ka's idea of a joke. Get him to go nosing around where he shouldn't be and then convince the other two to leave. Would be just like that gods-damned troll too, always having fun at somebody else's expense…

Eyes glinted suddenly from the trees. Olkhor jumped up and bared his tusks threateningly, but the furry grey shape that padded out into the dim firelight was familiar – Galmak's wolf, Palla, her name was. She stared at him intently and yipped once, very softly, before sniffing the ground inside the little camp. Olkhor caught the distinct impression that she was unsatisfied with what she found, cocking her head after a moment and listening, then shaking her head for all the world as if she were annoyed. She yipped again and turned to look at him as she melted back into the trees to the south.

It was obvious she wanted him to follow, and obvious that more was afoot than some stupid trick of Jas'ka's. Up to him to break camp, then, he thought with an irritated grunt. Three mounts which he couldn't just leave here for these merchants to steal. The troll's raptor, he decided with some satisfaction, would be the odd one out since he could only handle so much alone.

Hastily, Olkhor did his best to stuff at least the more valuable or irreplaceable items into packs, loading them on the wolves and the horse. After a half a moment's internal battle he saddled Hyara's horse, leaving the wolves bare except for their burdens of packs. The orcish wolves were well-trained and would follow quickly and silently wherever he led; the horse would be considerably more trouble if he didn't ride it. Barely more than five minutes after Palla had first emerged from the trees, Olkhor guided the horse carefully after her, riding wolves trotting behind obediently after a few whispered commands, and set off into the forest.

He discovered quickly that the horse didn't like him much, nor did it like traveling through dark trees over uncertain footing. It would be a miracle if the damned animal didn't get them both killed within the next ten minutes, Olkhor thought crankily. Still, his orcish eyes were a distinct asset in the dark, allowing him to guide the horse far more safely than most anyone else would have been able to. And for all the horse's recalcitrance, he moved much more quickly than he could have on foot, following Palla steadily southward.

The thought that he was getting exactly what he'd wanted by moving their camp away from the ogre village only made him snort in dry, grim amusement.

* * *

Moon and nether flashed abruptly through a rare hole in the forest's canopy. Hyara squinted briefly against the sudden light and glanced at her captor beside her before the light vanished again when they left the tiny clearing behind. Jas'ka's aquiline features were relaxed, his lips curled into what looked like a tiny smile. It might have been only the shadows. Hyara shivered and hugged her arms across her stomach, just above the glinting dagger.

"What did you do to Olkhor?" she asked quietly, dreading the answer. She couldn't believe the crotchety old warrior would have fallen easily.

"Nevah mind. He prob'ly dead by now."

'Probably dead' really didn't sound good enough for Olkhor. Hyara prayed hopefully that whatever Jas'ka had done, the old orc had found a way out of it.

"Did you hurt Galmak?" she tried again.

The troll laughed and he dug his fingers into her hip, letting the cold flat of the knife press just beneath her shirt. "Did _Ah_? Ah been right dere at da camp da whole time, girly. Dat part be someone else's job."

The tauren Gink had said Galmak had recognized. Hyara was still none the wiser. Why, she herself could count the number of tauren she'd recognize on…

And with that thought, her breath hitched in a soft gasp.

"Lahgga," she said through gritted teeth. They'd sat and talked with him long enough that Galmak's orcish eyes could have picked him out in the darkness. He'd shown an interest, less than a week ago, in their plans. He'd been the one to suggest oh-so-casually that they head into Terokkar Forest. What in hells was his interest in them, though?

"Not bad," Jas'ka chuckled. "He was da Shattrath contact."

"And you found Olkhor at Thunderlord Stronghold."

"Das' right. Don' care nothin' 'bout him, though. Point was, da two of you would be dere, or he would lead me to yah."

"Who sent you?" she asked, voice strangled and heart pounding.

"Das' fo' someone else ta explain. May not need explainin' once yah see, though." He let the knife slide lightly across her belly, barely even scratching the leather of her tunic, but the faint tickle was enough. Hyara fell silent.

The forest seemed endless in the night. The dagger pressed to her belly made her fear any small stumble. Gink slid silently along, not ten paces from her side in the undergrowth, but not daring to make a move. The cat hadn't shown himself but Jas'ka seemed not to have forgotten he was there and posed a danger, because the knife never wavered. She was growing tired and wondered if the troll might be feeling it by now too, but his slithering gait showed no signs of slowing. Galmak was much nearer ahead, judging by the feel she'd come to associate with proximity. The feel of him never weakened, exactly, but there was a different sensation to it somehow when he was close.

The sudden crack of a breaking branch sounded like a shot somewhere in the forest behind them. Jas'ka jerked her roughly to a halt and whirled around at the same time Hyara's senses went soaring outward to find the source. Gink dropped behind without a sound, and both he and his mistress discovered their pursuers at the same time.

It was Olkhor and Palla. Hyara could have cheered with relief. Jas'ka hissed beside her and his lithe body wavered and faded slightly until he blurred with the dark brush.

"Who dat be?" he growled low. "Have yah cat find out, girly."

"He is. He hasn't found anyone yet," she lied, trying to sound scared and succeeding without effort.

A dagger flashed too quickly for the eye to follow, pressing once again to her throat. Behind them now, Gink was all anxiety. Hyara prayed that Olkhor's night vision was as good as Galmak's and he could see what was going on.

"Who be dere?" Jas'ka rasped.

Only uneasy silence answered him from the darkness. The forest's nighttime chorus had paused; the only sound was Hyara's frightened breathing and Jas'ka's slower but no less frightened breaths.

"Show yahself, or Ah show yah da color o' her blood," the troll said angrily.

A sudden dart of shadowed movement in front of them, then almost simultaneously, the sound of two snarls from behind. An arrow thrummed through the air, missing the troll by inches. The furry body that slammed into the troll from behind didn't miss, however, and they both went down in a mash of grey and blue. Gink's teeth had sunk into Hyara's tunic at the same moment Palla sprang, yanking his mistress away from the knife, and she scrambled to her hooves to stumble in the direction the arrow had come from.

"Here," Olkhor said gruffly, shoving a familiar bow and quiver into her hands. "Palla found 'em. Guess you'll be a better shot."

She raised the bow toward where Palla and Jas'ka were still grappling, with Gink now joining the fray. But where Olkhor had been a worse shot, he'd also had the advantage of far better night-time sight. Hyara soon lowered the bow and shook her head.

"Too dark," she said. Olkhor leapt off the horse and charged in.

The troll, however, still had a few tricks up his sleeve. Looking away from the animals for an instant, he saw the orc coming for him and decided it was time to bail. With one mighty swing, a three-fingered fist cracked against Palla's jaw, throwing her away to skid to a halt against a tree trunk. Before Gink could lunge to take her place, there was a shimmer of the air and Jas'ka was gone.

Olkhor bellowed in rage, his charge unfaltering, and ran in with his axe flailing in hopes of catching the troll if he were still nearby. No such luck, though. After another moment of blind searching with his blade, the orc gave up with a curse.

"Ran off, he did," he said and spat on the ground, following up with a few choice words expressing just what he thought of the troll. "Traitorous bastard," was his final and politest assessment before he turned a concerned look on Hyara.

"You alright?" he asked, walking back over to where she was now leaning against a tree with one hand resting on Gink's head against her thigh.

"I'm alright," she nodded, opening her eyes from a prayer of thanks to the Light. Palla limped over and she knelt to examine the wolf. The jaw was the worst, undoubtedly bruised and painful. Thank the Light they'd been able to make him drop the daggers. With a soft burst of healing gold light, Hyara did what she could for Palla's injuries.

_Does she know what happened to Galmak?_

_No_, Gink replied. _She was too late_.

Hyara sighed and stood again. "Thank you, Olkhor," she said, giving the old orc a squeeze. He grunted in embarrassment but patted her back awkwardly.

"Now we need to find that mate of yours," he said gruffly. "What the fuck is going on, anyway? That damned troll sent me off looking for something that wasn't there in the ogre village, and when I got back, you lot were gone."

"He woke me and said Galmak had gone looking for you but hadn't come back. He must have sent Galmak off to find you, in the wrong direction. Gink saw him fighting a tauren out here, someone we met in Shattrath that Jas'ka is in league with."

"Well, just fine," Olkhor growled. "We still don't know where to find Galmak."

"We do," Hyara said, pointing through the trees. "He's where Jas'ka was taking me. That way."

"That damned troll is slinking off now to tell whoever he answers to that you got away, you can bet on it."

"We'll just have to be careful. I think you're right… he's run by now. He won't stay around and try to contend with both of us plus Gink and Palla." The cat and the wolf had already gone prowling off through the underbrush, searching for signs of the troll's flight.

She eyed her horse, impressed that Olkhor had made it all the way out here with both of them in one piece. She never would have attempted such a thing in the dark.

The orc caught her look and shook his head. "Pick a wolf. They see a lot better in the dark. I'll stick with the horse."

Galmak was very close by the time Gink caught the scent of Jas'ka's trail. The troll had obviously abandoned any attempt at stealth or silence once he'd moved beyond range of them, instead tearing through the forest with the most speed he could manage. They'd have to take a great deal of care now that the alarm had most likely gone out.

Hyara hadn't yet mentioned the strange beings Gink had seen, but now as they turned to circle around to another approach, she whispered, "Olkhor."

The old warrior halted ahead and wheeled the horse close to her side, his face wearing an expectant scowl.

"Gink saw some strange things after Galmak fought the tauren. It was them who brought him here. Gink said… he said he didn't think they were alive."

Olkhor grunted and looked away with a glare for a moment. "Always heard this forest was haunted. That's just dumb talk."

"Gink _saw_ them, so this is different," she insisted.

With another grunt, he nudged the horse forward and resumed their walk. Hyara narrowed her eyes at his back, miffed that he'd doubt her cat's word and uneasy that he wouldn't take her warning to heart.

_Keep alert_, she sent to Gink. _Olkhor doesn't know what to look for_.

_Galmak is still unconscious_, he said back. She could feel a slight strain in him, in sympathy with Palla's pain and probably her own as well.

_I know_, she replied, sending a soothing feel through the bond.

Ahead, after several minutes more, Olkhor pulled the horse to a sharp stop, which it protested with a soft whicker. Hyara came up to his side and followed his gaze through the trees.

"There," he said grimly and pointed.

She could see nothing. All was dark shadows and green glow. There were more trees, more brush, a few clumps of boulders in the near distance, and…

With an intake of breath, she realized that some of the glow wasn't green. The trees in the near distance were blushed with a weak bluish glow; then she noticed a faint purplish cast nearby… The glowing things were crystals. Not the odd crystalline growths of the tree roots, but actual mineral crystals jutting from brown and grey ruined stone walls.

"It's draenei ruins," she whispered in amazement.

"Anyone else nearby?" Olkhor was glaring toward the ruined buildings as if they'd personally offended him.

Hyara pulled her gaze away with an effort and extended her senses to search the area. Gink and Palla confirmed what she felt. "No one," she answered.

The warrior craned his neck around to look at the forest behind them, then carefully urged the horse back a few dozen paces to a thick trunk with bushes clumped around it in a dense ring. He dismounted around the back side of the tree and pushed a way through to the middle of the ring. Hyara followed his lead and surveyed the trunk and its huge, ropey roots; the place would make a well-sheltered campsite.

While Olkhor saw to the mounts nearby, Hyara knelt beside Gink just outside the shelter.

"Let me see through your eyes," she whispered.

Gink licked her nose and she felt the agreement pass between them, and then the forest leapt suddenly into sharper clarity. The darkness no longer hindered her, but rather seemed made for her eyes. Gink went loping silently in the direction of the ruins and her spirit followed. Leaves and dirt flashed past under huge paws. There was a strange scent in the meager wind, cold and bitter. Walls reared up ahead, but they were no barrier, broken and scarred by time and more sinister forces. Without a sound, the huge cat's ghostly form merged with the shadows and skirted the wall, searching for a soundless and easy way inside.

The courtyard he entered was small with a pitted floor that the forest seemed determined to conquer. Roots had pierced it long ago, shoving great cracks further and further through the stone until it had become like a splintered continent. Up a wide stairway he prowled, stepping delicately over loose stones, forest detritus, and other things his eyes slid quickly away from – for Hyara's sake – that gleamed dull white beneath layers of grime and dust. Before long he reached a larger courtyard. Here had been the heart of the village, but no more than four dozen buildings faced the level field of stone. The place was silent but for the whisper of the encroaching trees overhead and the low moan of wind on stone. One feeble light burned in the largest building, straight ahead. Gink padded lightly across the courtyard and flattened himself to the ground to peer through a hole gouged in the thick stone.

With a leaping feeling that belonged to his mistress's heart, he saw Galmak's boot and part of his leg on a pallet laid on the floor. The boot was moving, thank the gods. Across the room, well within view, Jas'ka slumped against a wall. Gink noted with satisfaction that he looked chewed up and miserable.

Another figure paced into view and the cat's eyes traveled upward from the feet to land on the face. Hyara jolted with shock and dread, breaking her concentration. Gink faded away; the forest and the dead, impenetrable night rushed back in around her and she rocked forward from her crouch to brace herself with her hands in the dirt.

"What's wrong now?" Olkhor's voice said gruffly, though full of concern, behind her.

Sweat prickled her skin with cold, and she reached up a hand to wipe it away before answering.

"Teyagah."

* * *


	27. III: Hello Again

* * *

It was the cold that eventually woke Galmak. He flexed his fingers even before his eyes opened in an attempt to warm them. His wrists wouldn't move, nor would his arms. It took his sluggish brain another moment to realize that it wasn't entirely the cold numbing his fingers – his hands were tied and the rope bit his flesh. Carefully and slowly, he opened his eyes to near-darkness warmed only slightly by an orange flame flickering somewhere out of his sight. A brown stone wall curved upward only a few feet from his face until it met a high, curved ceiling, also of brown stone. It reminded him of the inn in Karkun Kamil.

"Awake," hissed a familiar voice somewhere behind his back. He tried rolling over and managed it, painfully, mashing his fingers against the thin straw pallet on which he lay. As he did so, his eyes lighted on a flat black stone lying a foot from his head and covered in faint, shimmering symbols. There was another one to his other side.

"Jas'ka," he said. "What's going on? Where're Hyara and Olkhor?"

The troll made a sour face and didn't answer, instead looking away toward a far corner, deeply shadowed. The shadows couldn't hide Lahgga from Galmak's eyes, though, and some of the orc's puzzlement with the situation instantly evaporated. Whatever this was about, Jas'ka was clearly in on it too.

"I said, where are Hyara and Olkhor?" he growled as menacingly as he could while lying on the floor with his hands tied.

"Gone," Jas'ka spat, and Lahgga chuckled softly.

Before he could demand what "gone" meant, light footsteps echoed nearer from a doorway somewhere toward the center of the long room, set at such an angle that it was obscured from his view. It took barely half a second for him to identify the feel of the approaching person, though. A growl built in his throat, turning to a snarl when his captor appeared.

"I see you have rejoined the world of the living," Teyagah said with an ironic smile.

Galmak only stared at his grandmother with a glare that shot bullets. She looked exactly as she had the last time he'd seen her: tall and beautiful with deep violet hair showing no signs of grey, face untouched by any ravages of age, small tusks glittering perfectly white in the near-darkness. Nothing he'd wrought in the cave seemed to have affected her at all.

Her long, midnight blue robes swished across the floor as she came to stand nearer his prone figure. He had no intention of answering her, but she appeared to be waiting for him to speak. Finally she must have concluded he would need prodding.

"We have a great deal to discuss," she said, her amber eyes narrowed now in annoyance.

"We have nothing to discuss," he snapped. "I thought I made that clear last time."

"Tell me, who was it who wrested my slave away from me, whelp? Was it my daughter?" she asked, now smiling cruelly. Galmak thought he glimpsed a twisted pride in her eyes.

He could feel Hyara, and she was nowhere nearby. It was that which gave him strength to continue his defiance; she must have thus far escaped them somehow. "We have nothing to discuss," he repeated through gritted teeth.

"We do," she insisted with a dangerous glare, and motioned a hand toward the black stones beside his head. "And now we can be sure to keep you here properly."

They were some sort of confining runes then, were they? He glanced at them again, but the odd symbols meant nothing to his untrained eye. Perhaps they warded against the use of shamanistic magics, would have prevented him from calling the powers he had at their last encounter. Unknown to Teyagah, they were useless for that purpose, of course, but it made Galmak's stomach sink nonetheless. She was being much more careful this time.

Teyagah opened her mouth again, but then closed it in favor of glancing through the door toward a scraping sound, also approaching at an angle Galmak couldn't see.

"A discussion demands two sides to a conversation, young brother," came another familiar voice. "I think you will find our side just as fascinating as we will find yours."

Where Teyagah seemed to have escaped the cave in the Aerie Peaks unscathed, Var'kan hadn't fared so well. As he shuffled into the room, Galmak noticed first the stump where his left foot had been, then the empty, staring hole his left eye had once occupied. It made his congenial grin all the more unsettling. The grin still held the feral quality that Galmak remembered all too well, and none of the bitterness or anger he would have expected after their last encounter. Its absence seemed far more dangerous than any overt expression of emotion. Var'kan came nearer, walking with a cane made of black iron that clanged hollowly on the stone floor.

"We had quite an agreeable arrangement, which you skirted out on," Var'kan said with a light chuckle. "Surely you didn't expect us to let you go so easily, young brother?"

"It doesn't look like it was very easy on you," Galmak couldn't resist remarking. "I won't even get started on your idea of an 'agreeable arrangement'."

Var'kan's chuckle turned to a nasty laugh and he exchanged a look with his mate. "Indeed. Unfortunate. In any case, well done, Lahgga." He gave the tauren a mocking bow. "Jas'ka, however…"

The troll cringed slightly, but Galmak took no notice, deciding there _was_ something he wanted to know. If he could get in a jab at Lahgga while he was at it, all the better.

"Oh, Lahgga didn't do a damn thing. He sat right back on his ass and begged for his life. It was lucky for him someone else showed up to bail him out. Who the fuck were they, anyway?"

Teyagah had been gazing at Jas'ka with a speculative look, the way one might look at a choice piece of meat and decide how best to carve it, but she turned her attention back on her grandson.

"What exactly did you see, whelp?" she asked. The smile curling her lips now held a gleeful, almost mad, quality that made Galmak suppress a shudder.

He remained stubbornly silent now and waited for their answer, determined not to play their game, whatever it was.

"Then perhaps you would like your memory refreshed," Teyagah said. Across the room, Lahgga cursed quietly and his chair groaned as the big tauren shifted his weight.

Her fingers reached to her neck, tugging a leather cord, and from the bodice of her robes she withdrew a small, stoppered vial that glittered in the low light.

"Do you know what this is, whelp?" She came nearer and held the vial delicately between two fingers for his inspection. Galmak stared at it suspiciously. It contained something dark… something that sloshed when she shook it very slightly, as well as something else that clinked softly against the glass. His face must have reflected his sudden realization.

"Yes," she smiled. "Your mate's blood has exceeded our expectations. The power our runestones took from you has also performed as we hoped."

Galmak was too stunned to comment. They'd _taken_ power from him? Had that been why he'd felt so exhausted after his time in that horrible pool? He remembered thinking how drained he'd felt. Ironic that that had been exactly the truth.

"We have finally been able to accomplish at least part of what we sought, thanks to your help, young brother," Var'kan smiled, as if he were bestowing great praise.

Teyagah carefully replaced the leather cord around her neck and held the vial cupped in her hands. She closed her eyes and muttered a few words, far too low for Galmak to hear, and made three sharp, intricate gestures in the air. The room grew colder abruptly. In his shadowed corner, Lahgga groaned and the chair scraped the stone floor as if he were trying to move further away.

"We can summon help, you see," Var'kan said softly. "Help of the kind we want is readily available here."

Silence stretched. The stone room was frigid now, like a cave that had never known sun. Galmak could see his breath feathering out in the guttering light of the candle, his precious body warmth dissipating futilely to be lost in the dead ruins. He waited in smoldering anger for his undead captors to show him what they meant, but with no small measure of fear also. They were dangerous, now more than ever, in their madness.

When his eyes finally picked out something, he was at first startled. There was something else in the room that hadn't been there before. It wavered like smoke against the stone walls and sighed very softly as it moved, wisping together, slowly gaining definition. Galmak swallowed and braced himself against shrinking backward from the thing that was materializing in the center of the room, but he couldn't stop the low growl that built in his throat. The thing brought with it the same feelings of rage and bitterness he remembered from the forest, lancing into him as sharply as the cold in the room.

It was a draenei. Or rather, the shade of a draenei, tall but without any weight, there in some semblance of appearance but not there in body.

"Why do you call me here," the shade spoke, its voice deep and distant. Galmak was reminded of a game he'd played as a child, calling out to friends through the long, dark drain pipes that ran beneath Orgrimmar's streets. He shuddered in spite of himself.

"You see," Teyagah said, smiling. Her small, perfect tusks caught the glimmer of the candlelight. "We warlocks know the power of enslaving the elements. All can be tortured and twisted to do our bidding. Earth, air, water… You have felt the bite of fire yourself, whelp, from a shaman's pathetic knowledge. There is another element which can be enslaved as well, but it is far more difficult."

"I don't care for your tricks," Galmak snarled, very afraid now but trying not to show it.

"Tricks?" Var'kan laughed. "These are no tricks, I assure you."

Galmak saw now that Var'kan too wore a vial and was holding it in one fist. More of the mist was seeping into the room, swirling and slowly, inexorably forming into another shape and then another… He couldn't be sure how many there were now. The stone room, chilly before, had become populous with wavering, bluish beings cold as ice. Even the feeble candlelight seemed dimmer, filtered as it was through at least a dozen nebulous blue bodies. There was a snarl and a forlorn whine from across the room and Galmak saw that Lahgga had assumed his feline form and curled tightly against the wall. Var'kan and Teyagah, unaffected by the chill cold, stood amidst the press of insubstantial forms, gazing down smugly at the young orc. Jas'ka alone among the living in the room seemed unfearful. He still sat against the wall to Galmak's right, his eyes narrowed and smiling, body rocking faintly and a low, murmuring chant escaping his lips.

"These men and women lived once, or at least some part of them did," Var'kan continued quietly, turning awkwardly in a circle as if to survey his small kingdom. "They lived in this village, defended it against your people, young brother, as the army of the Legion invaded and cut them down. You, however, provided us with the means to reach that aspect of them which makes them more than mere shades, more powerful than the simple dead."

Galmak stared up at them in horror, wishing he could disbelieve what he heard, but now a few more pieces of the puzzle that had troubled him for months were at last beginning to fall into place. Var'kan had lied to him in the cave all those months ago; they hadn't been searching for anything in his dreams. They'd only told him so as a distraction, a deception meant to keep him doing exactly what they wanted, which was to do absolutely nothing but lie in that pool surrounded by those little runestones. They had drained shamanistic power from him unawares. A particular power, in fact, he hadn't known he possessed. And he thought he knew now what they spoke of when they said there was something more difficult to enslave: the fifth element. The Spirit of the Wilds, which had never shown its favor enough to contact him. Yet somehow he had still betrayed it with his briefly attained, nascent abilities as a shaman and unknowingly given these monsters power over it. Somehow Var'kan and Teyagah had enslaved the Spirit of the Wilds with his unwitting help.

"You can't control what you don't understand," he growled out defiantly.

Teyagah laughed, an unpleasant sound that echoed in the hollowness of the room. "Silly whelpling. You think we don't understand? We were communing with the Spirit long before even your mother was born. We do control these slaves; they have obeyed us many times already. They will obey us again now."

Her amber eyes glittered disconcertingly as she knelt very close to Galmak. Var'kan watched intently with a cruel smile stretching his lips, and Galmak had the uneasy feeling that they'd finished their show-and-tell for the time and were ready for business again.

"Where is your mate?" Teyagah hissed. "My dealings with her are not concluded. I will have her back."

"You won't," he answered stolidly. In the back of his mind he could feel the comfort of Hyara's presence, a steady distance away. She was out there, somewhere relatively nearby, but (he prayed) a safe distance. It took a great deal of self control to keep the conduit of his emotions choked off so they wouldn't overwhelm her right now. He could tell she was trying to do the same and he hoped it was only because she was worried for him and not in immediate danger herself. "Jas'ka failed, like you said, and that's it. She's far away by now."

"Liar," Teyagah laughed, joined by Var'kan.

"Come, young brother. Your mate is as likely to leave you as we are to leave off looking for her."

"What's his interest in this, anyway?" Galmak said with a jerk of his head toward the troll, hoping to sidetrack them from their line of questioning.

"Jas'ka has served us faithfully for many years now," Var'kan answered in an off-handed way. He was looking at Teyagah now. A silent agreement passed between them and the undead raised his hands to make a few odd gestures.

"Go," he hissed.

It was as if an icy gale burst suddenly outward from a point near the center of the room. The silent, ephemeral crowd jolted forward in every direction and vanished beyond the stone walls. Galmak was left stunned and shivering with the low moan of their passing dying in his ears. Across the room, Lahgga let out an audible groan of relief.

"They will find her," Var'kan said. Teyagah rose and stepped backward to his side. The hollow clang of his cane receded down the stone hall.

Galmak let his head fall back to the pallet and closed his eyes. They _would_ find her. How could they not? There were dozens of them, surreal beings driven by the rage of the lives they'd lost and imbued with the enslaved power of the very force of all life.

"She gon' wish she'd let me bring 'er heah," Jas'ka chuckled.

"You realize you're serving two of the most despicable creatures you could ever hope not to meet," Galmak said flatly.

"Yo' an idiot," the troll answered with an easy grin. "Ah serve fo' da honor of mah tribe. We've served da Horde fo' a long time… da real Horde an' da Legion, not da soft Horde."

"Then you're not a Revantusk, you lying bastard," he growled back.

Jas'ka's huge foot flashed out in a sudden, casual kick to Galmak's side that made the orc grunt in pain. "Not a Revantusk," he agreed with a smile. "Yah can guess what Ah really am, Ah bet."

He could. A Vilebranch, the tribe of Jas'ka's damned ghost story and a tribe that had been cozy with the old, bad Horde for years before it fell apart. A tribe that considered the Aerie Peaks its backyard. The story of Var'kan's people was slowly filling out in Galmak's mind; they had served the Burning Legion, then later the Scourge until the Lich King had developed an agenda of his own. Perhaps they had chosen to break away and continue with the Legion, rather than switch their allegiance to the traitorous Scourge. If that were true, it would mean they answered to the Legion even now. Did they think of themselves as some sort of revival of the old Horde, the _real_ Horde as they saw it, still ready and waiting on the Legion's bidding?

"An' Lahgga's an ole friend," the troll continued. "Mercenary, yah could say. Reliable."

"More reliable than you," the tauren laughed smugly, apparently recovered from his earlier terror. Jas'ka gave a sulky croak and sprang suddenly to his feet to pace the room restlessly.

Galmak shifted on the pallet, trying to find a more comfortable position. He tested his bindings again and found them secure and painfully tight, even after a little covert tugging. Hyara was moving, he realized suddenly, though not enough to alarm him into believing she was being chased by the shades. He could also feel Palla with her, which gave him some measure of comfort that at least his wolf could watch out for her. He prayed again to the ancestors that somehow she could elude Teyagah and Var'kan's slaves until he could figure out what to do.

And what had befallen Olkhor? He sized up the troll pacing the room, considering. He didn't think Jas'ka would be a match for the tough old warrior under normal circumstances, but Jas'ka would have had the element of surprise. Then too, if he'd really sent Olkhor off toward the ogres, the troll might not have had to lift a finger. Something had kept Olkhor away long enough for his own successful capture and an attempt on Hyara. Galmak could only pray that whatever had kept him wasn't so permanent as death.

* * *

Olkhor was at that moment stalking along after Hyara as she made a careful, exploratory circle of the ruined village. Gink and Palla had spread out through the underbrush, venturing far closer than the draenei and the orc dared. Palla hoped to get close enough for a quick word with Galmak.

They discovered after most of their circle was complete that the village backed to a steep, rocky hill, and they turned back to retrace their steps around rather than navigate the harder terrain to complete the circle. The village had been carved out in the shelter of the near-cliff, and Hyara suspected the residents had used the topography as natural camouflage. Very likely they had also used some sort of illusionary magic. Nothing so grand as the fabled Telmor, of course, but perhaps some simple glamour a village mage had been able to conjure. Whatever they had used, it had obviously failed them in the end, when the Legion's demon-driven armies had come calling outside their walls. Maybe Gheris had heard of this place; he might even have been here before it was ruined. What had it been called? When had it fallen? She pulled herself reluctantly from speculations of the past, focusing instead on Gink's and Galmak's senses to the east. Galmak was far calmer now, a tremendous relief. She'd feared earlier that anything she could do would come too late. Only Olkhor's firm hands and Gink's soothing presence had kept her from rushing in headlong.

"His wolf talked to him yet?" Olkhor whispered behind.

"Not yet." She shook her head. "Gink can get much closer than she can. She's being very cautious because we don't know…" She trailed off with a frown, deciding it was useless to try again to convince him of what Gink had seen. True, she'd seen nothing through her cat's eyes inside the village and he'd admitted as much too when he'd returned, but that might only mean the things, whatever they were, were out here looking for them. It was a highly unsettling thought.

_Stay back_, came Gink's sudden urgent command, even as she was thinking of him. Hyara froze and peered carefully through the trees to catch a glimpse of whatever had alarmed her cat. She held up a cautionary hand to Olkhor and he too halted.

_It's those things again_, he clarified, the hint of a growl running through the thought. Crouching low with eyes wide, she motioned Olkhor down as well. She still couldn't see anyth–

Not true any longer. There was something in the trees between their position and the village now, hazing the air very slightly beyond the forest's normal obscurity. Somewhere in the world above the canopy, dawn had broken and light was beginning to soak slowly downward to make the shadows a little less deep. Hyara could see much better now, and she was sure she could see something. She turned her head slowly – no sudden movements – and raised an eyebrow at Olkhor, wondering what he could see, but the old orc didn't even notice her look. He was staring transfixed at the thing with a look of fear that Hyara had never seen on his face before.

The haze was bluish, and as they watched it move slowly outward from the ruins, they could tell it was not one uniform entity. It was several, possibly five by Hyara's count. The faint outlines of bodies came into focus, bobbing slightly as if walking, yet far too smooth a gait for the terrain they traveled. As they drew nearer, Hyara felt deep uneasiness melt gradually into horror and a terrible hollow bitterness that seemed to weigh on her limbs and render her utterly unable to move. Her eyes flicked to Olkhor and she saw his face twisted with the same hypnotic emotions.

Then the hazy blue figures resolved themselves into a shape her terrified mind could finally identify, and somehow it seemed to unfreeze her.

"We need to move," she hissed at Olkhor. The warrior looked over at her dazedly and she watched with relief as the old angry grouchiness replaced his look of horror.

They backed away slowly and carefully under cover of the thick brush, joining Gink some distance away and then shortly joined by Palla. They didn't speak a word for a while, Hyara watching silently with eyes sharpened by daylight as the shades still approached slowly. How far would they search? Surely they wouldn't push outward forever…

And then, abruptly, their pace faltered and they stood motionless, gazing into the trees ahead. One of them, the shape of a man, raised a hand to shade his eyes in what was surely an old habitual gesture from the life he'd lost, and then he stepped forward alone and vanished. The others turned around and faded back the way they'd come, into the trees toward the village.

No one wanted to speak for several minutes. Finally, with her heart slowing, Hyara looked over at Olkhor and opened her mouth.

"Don't say 'I told you so'," the warrior growled.

"I wasn't going to." Her voice shook and she grasped one of his hands just for the strength of it. "Olkhor, what have they done? They've… somehow…" She didn't want to say it. It was repulsive and blasphemous and terrifying. She didn't understand it at all.

"Raised your people's spirits, yes," Olkhor finished for her. His voice was surprisingly gentle. He sat squeezing her hand for a moment before pushing himself to his feet. "Let's make sure they didn't find the damn animals just sitting around."

She followed him this time back around the circle to their little camp. The riding wolves were gone, but Olkhor wasn't worried; orcish wolves often roamed a little to hunt their own food, and a whistle would always call them instantly back. The horse was the real test, and the horse was still standing placidly right where they'd left it, munching at a tuft of grass. The shades hadn't come near enough to spook it.

Hyara looked at their camp, just as it had been when they'd left to explore. "Why do you think they all stopped like that?" she finally asked quietly.

Olkhor shrugged without looking at her, busying himself with some imaginary task inside a pack.

"Guess they were called back, maybe," he said reluctantly.

"Maybe." She sat down with her back against a thick root. Suddenly the events of the past night and morning threatened to crash down and crush her. Only yesterday they'd had no inkling of this trouble, blithely anticipating being back in Nagrand and having the "fun" of introducing Olkhor to the Kanrethad. Yet all along, disaster had traveled with them and stalked them from the forest.

"Good gods," Olkhor said in gruff alarm. "If you go to pieces, girl…"

"I'm not going to pieces," she replied angrily and swiped a hand across her face. "But we need to come up with something. They have Galmak and they're looking for me. I can't elude them forever, and especially not if…" If they started torturing Galmak to lure her in. With a small flutter of hope, though, she realized that they wouldn't know. They would have no idea about the bond unless they'd somehow tricked or forced Galmak into revealing it. Why, Teyagah might even believe that Serlah held the other end of Hyara's bond.

She took a deep breath and stood up again. "The caravan's gone by now, so that's no help," she said, instinctively glancing upward to find the invisible sun. It had to be midmorning by now.

"Damn goblin probably danced off right at sunrise with his talbuk and pet ogre," Olkhor agreed.

Hyara stared at him. "Olkhor, that's it! The ogres. The ogres might help!"

"Ogres!" the orc guffawed. "Those damn brutes would never lift a finger for you or me, or anybody outside their clan. They'd likely kill us the moment we asked. They'd think it was a trick. Can you imagine putting a pack of those stupid animals up against what we just saw back there? Or even against just Teyagah or Var'kan? It'd be a slaughter, plain and simple."

"And it would take all day to get back to the village, and even longer to convince them, if we even could," she sighed, deflating again. They were on their own, and they needed a plan with brains.

"What we need right now is sleep," Olkhor said, as if reading her mind. "Nobody much slept last night, that's for damn sure."

He was right; she'd be dead on her hooves before too much longer. She sent a silent question toward Gink and got an immediate, comforting reply. "Gink will watch for us," she said and covered a yawn. She dug out a bedroll and laid it on a patch of grass between two roots. Soon after she'd settled, Olkhor also settling down nearby, Palla came padding into their little clearing and laid down with her warm, furry side pressed close to her master's mate. Hyara buried her face in Palla's fur and let her tears fall silently.

* * *


	28. III: The Cost of Arrogance

* * *

**A/N**: There's a new poll in my profile; check it out.

* * *

It was early afternoon by the time Hyara woke, sans even a prod from Gink. Olkhor was still sleeping and she was inclined to let him stay that way for the time being. They had no plan, no advantages to follow up, not even much more exploring to do. Gink was somewhere very near the village, or possibly inside; Hyara couldn't tell. Palla was nowhere in sight. She sent a quick question to her cat and got an answer that cheered her: Palla was talking to her master right this moment.

She could barely contain her impatience, but she managed to wait a few more minutes before prodding Gink again.

_Var'kan and Teyagah have him tied in there_, her cat finally filled her in. _Jas'ka and Lahgga are guarding him. He's seen the shades that were looking for us._

Next there was a burst of confused feelings and images that, once she'd interpreted and sorted through them, shocked her. Gink had evidently decided the idea, horrible as it was, was best conveyed in thoughts. Galmak had learned what the shades were, and they were not entirely draenei. They were also some twisted manifestation of the Spirit of the Wilds, enslaved for the Legion's purposes, and Galmak felt to blame for it.

_Tell him Olkhor is with me, _she said to Gink, realizing that Galmak would be as in the dark about the warrior's fate as she had been at first. _And tell him I love him_. A moment later she felt her husband reply to that directly through their bond.

Gink cut in apologetically with a warning. _The shades are out again, searching_.

Hyara felt her stomach lurch and she scrambled over to the still-snoozing warrior.

"Olkhor," she prodded gently, and the orc rolled over with a grunt to open one bleary reddish eye. "They're searching again. We should move the horse back in case they come out further."

Olkhor sat up with a yawn, but he was otherwise wide awake now. Quickly they gathered their packs and the few other things that comprised their camp, then Hyara saddled the horse. The wolves were still nowhere to be seen, and Olkhor had no notion to call them back now when a whistle might be heard by hostile ears. Instead, he tossed the extra two saddles across the horse's back and they led the animal carefully, and silently as possible, into the brush further east.

As they walked, Hyara filled the warrior in on what Palla had learned from Galmak.

"He's stuck in there with Lahgga and Jas'ka guarding him and he doesn't know what Var'kan and Teyagah are up to in the meantime," she finished with a quiet sigh.

"Doing more of their spirit work, no doubt," Olkhor grimaced. "Think they want you for your blood again?"

"I have no idea," she said with a bemused shrug. "They haven't even said what they want with Galmak again. I… I'm afraid because they're not going to get more of the same from him, if that's what they're after, and they won't be happy about that."

Olkhor looked at her sharply and his eyes narrowed. "Time you told me something, I think. Never did pry into what all that business was about at his parents' farm."

"And we were grateful for that." She fell silent and bit her lip in thought, wondering how much it was really necessary to say. She knew anything she told Olkhor would stay in strictest confidence and she wouldn't insult him by reminding him of that expectation. "I'll just… just say that there's something different about me that allowed Teyagah to bind me to her in the cave. It was permanent, unless she died or surrendered the bond to someone else. Galmak couldn't let that stand and so he gave up on the path of a shaman for me. He took over the bond, and now… he has different abilities."

It was hard to say those things, but she knew she could have chosen a worse audience than the closemouthed, grouchy old warrior. Olkhor was no fool, though, and he would guess at some of what she left obscure. She watched him closely out of the corner of her eye, uncertain how an orc who had witnessed firsthand all the tragedy and horror of Draenor's fall would respond.

They trudged on silently through the brush for a few moments more before deciding they'd reached a safe enough distance. Hyara led the horse around to the back side of a tree and unsaddled it again. When she finished and came back around, Olkhor was staring back in the direction they'd traveled.

"Don't see anything yet. My eyes aren't so good as they used to be though," he said. He crouched and took a seat on a flattened rock, then looked up at Hyara. "I guess the ancestors had that worked out all along too, didn't they."

She smiled. "Yes. They prepared him to accept it, and his faith carried him through. It seemed like it should be wrong just because of what it was, but he knew it wasn't. It _felt_ right, and the ancestors told him to listen to that. Galmak struggles with the Shadow now. He doesn't know what they intend for him anymore," she finished quietly. Speaking of it brought the familiar ache of love and awe at what her husband had done for her. Instinctively she reached out with longing toward his sense that seemed a world away from her, and felt his quiet, steady strength lovingly respond.

"Lucky," Olkhor grunted, startling her slightly. "Damned lucky is what I call the pair of you, but we're going to need more than luck to get him out of this. So–"

"You need help!"

They both whirled at the sound of the grating bass voice behind them. Hyara's bow came up in a lightning flash. Olkhor's axe snicked from its strap at his back and the big orc stepped partway in front of Hyara with a menacing snarl.

Three dozen long strides away, dwarfing the underbrush and even the thick fallen trunk he stood in front of, was an ogre. He was of the one-headed variety, in possession of two gold eyes that traveled over the draenei and the orc with surprising sharpness. Dressed in grey and green leathers in considerably more quantity than was customary for ogres, he blended with the forest almost as well as the colossal olemba trunk he leaned against. He carried a spear, ornamented with arakkoa feathers, that reached his muscular shoulders and had a pair of glinting axes strapped at his belt.

Olkhor's growl was reaching dangerous levels. Hyara slowly lowered her bow and laid a hand on the warrior's shoulder, keeping her eyes trained on the ogre. If he so much as twitched, she could have an arrow sailing toward him in a heartbeat before he was even able to heft that massive spear.

"We don't mean any harm out here," she said distinctly, calling across the fair distance that separated them. "What do you mean by 'help'? We aren't lost."

"You not lost, no," the ogre laughed in a bass rumble, and Hyara automatically put a finger to her lips.

"Shhh!" she said in alarm and glanced toward the village.

The ogre sobered and also sent a look that direction. "You right, we be quiet. Bad things there. That why you need help!"

Olkhor's face was twisted between disbelief, anger, and confusion. "What do you know about this, meathead?" he growled.

"I know you need help," the ogre repeated. "We hear things, see strange things. We think someone sneaking around our village. Caravan say people disappear. Chu'thog come take a look. This place close to our village and I don't like it."

"And you want to help us," Hyara said, a little befuddled. She'd never heard of an ogre in the business of providing help to strangers.

"It bad for our village." The ogre nodded his massive head. "The chieftain not care so much, he think it far. But I come see anyway. I help you if you help village."

"And you think we're going to help your village by clearing out that little problem to the west," Olkhor glared.

"Yes!" Chu'thog laughed, heartily enough that Hyara had to remind him again to be quiet. "You two slow!"

Olkhor didn't care to be called slow by an ogre and his growl rose again. "And you must be dumb as a brick if you think the three of us can storm in there and clean up those ruins."

That only made Chu'thog chuckle, fortunately much more quietly this time. "You slow, yes. We not storm in. We make plan!"

Olkhor was the slow one and the ogre wanted to talk strategy. It was too much, and Hyara had to laugh too.

"There, draenei get it!" Chu'thog said, still laughing. Olkhor gave her a nasty grimace and she patted his arm placatingly while trying to sober herself.

"He seems alright," she shrugged, whispering for the warrior's ears only. "At the least, he's another set of weapons, hmm?" She approached a few steps toward the ogre and called, "I'm Hyara. This is Olkhor."

"Chu'thog!" he roared back, and made a clunky bow that threatened to set Hyara giggling again.

"Well, just great," Olkhor grumbled. "Now we have a meathead to tote around with us."

"You heard what he said, Olkhor. He's here to… address the threat. He probably wouldn't go away even if we told him we didn't need help," Hyara pointed out quietly. "We'd just end up stumbling into him in the bushes from time to time. We might as well team up."

"He'd go away once he realizes there's nothing to be done." Olkhor looked away shiftily at the expression on Hyara's face and patted her arm awkwardly. "Now, I didn't mean that. Just don't see what some big, dumb ogre can do about it."

"I agree with big. I big to a puny orc like you," Chu'thog nodded. Olkhor looked over and glared again; apparently the ogre had better hearing than they'd given him credit for. "But I not so dumb. What you think, draenei?"

In a few surprisingly quiet strides, he covered the distance to the pair and stood looking down at them. Olkhor's axe still hadn't made it back into its sling and the orc looked dangerously tense, so Hyara took it upon herself to extricate it from his fingers and replace it on his back.

"I think we could use any help we can get," she said firmly with a look at the orc. "My mate is trapped inside that village with people who want to do him harm, and I intend to get him out one way or another. I'll be glad for your help, Chu'thog, as long as you promise not to fight with Olkhor."

"I not fight little orcie if orcie– " He stopped at the look on Hyara's face. "If Olkhor not fight me."

"Then I won't fight big, dumb meathead if Chu'thog doesn't fight us," Olkhor growled.

"Good deal!" Chu'thog held out an enormous palm and grinned. Olkhor stared at it in distaste for a moment, but begrudgingly shook.

"Alright." Hyara breathed a relieved sigh. "Chu'thog, what have you seen since you arrived?"

The ogre sobered and glanced toward the village, lowering his voice until it only rumbled half as loudly, "I see strange things. I get here at the end of dark and I find your camp. I wait to see who else is here. I wait and wait, sun come up, then I see things coming closer. They coming toward camp, they going to find camp. I do ogre trick and fool them. They go away to look and not come back. I don't like those things." A shudder ran through his gigantic frame.

"…Ogre trick?" Hyara raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"With voice. Use bouncy trees just right." Chu'thog looked critically off through the forest for several seconds, turned his head, and cupped his hands to his mouth. A strange bellowing sounded abruptly behind them and to the left, somewhere in the trees toward the ruined village. It wasn't quite the voice of an ogre, more animal, and faint with distance.

Hyara was amazed and impressed, not to mention grateful. He'd saved their camp that way.

Olkhor, however, wasn't impressed. "Your friends in Blade's Edge like to do that too, off rocks. Doesn't fool somebody who's used to it."

"Friends?" Chu'thog looked mildly puzzled. "I not have friends in Blade's Edge. But anyway, those things went away and I not see them again yet."

"Have you ever seen them before today?" Hyara asked.

The ogre's massive head swung side to side. "Not see, no. This forest haunted, though; we always know that. No one like coming this far south from village. My cousin down here once and he say he see monster, but he idiot."

"They're spirits," the hunter explained, leaving out the finer points for now. "My mate has seen them up close. Other than the spirits they send out to search for us, there are two bad undead in there, plus a tauren and a troll guarding my mate."

Chu'thog absorbed that information, nodding thoughtfully. "You have wolf too?" he asked.

"And a cat, yes," Hyara answered, startled. "My mate's companion and my own."

"I see wolf further out. I not see cat," Chu'thog nodded. "Wrong color for wolves around here."

She spared a look at Olkhor, who was staring at the ogre with suspicion, then glanced backward into the trees where she could sense a presence approaching. It was easily identifiable as only Galmak's riding wolf, though, returned from his hunt, and she picked her way through the brush a few paces to greet him with a scratch to his ears. Olkhor took the opportunity to step out of reach of the ogre and take a seat on a rock. He stared warily up at Chu'thog all the while, seeming ready to hurl his axe at any minute. Hyara sighed and sat down to think in the warm curve of the riding wolf's belly. They were going nowhere just as fast now as they had been before, only now they had an ogre along for the ride also.

* * *

What little remained of the night, as well as most of the morning, had passed in snatches of uneasy sleep for Galmak. He was aware that his guards dozed some too, Lahgga's occasional snores jolting him awake at least three times, but it never seemed that they slept both at once. At any rate, he didn't think it would have done him any good even if both his guards had fallen asleep. Not only had he been unable to work himself free of the cord that bound his hands behind his back, he could also feel the ephemeral, eerie presence of the shades flitting every so often around the outside of the building and the village beyond. Evidently Var'kan and Teyagah did not always dismiss them back to whatever hellish limbo they'd been summoned from. The things made his skin prickle with deep disquiet that bordered uncomfortably close to terror. And why did he feel such fear of them? It was a question he didn't have to dig too far to answer. They were the unliving embodiment of two elements of his past, both personal and racial, that brought him great shame and grief. Their bitterness and hatred seemed fully justified in his mind.

When at last he woke and knew he wouldn't sleep again, only scant green, watery light seeped inside his stone prison. The building's wide doorway, long since missing its door, had been draped in a heavy, dark cloth that kept out much of the light as well as the weather. Teyagah appeared around noon, casting barely a glance at Galmak to make sure he hadn't moved since the night, and said a few hushed words to the sleepy tauren. Lahgga got up a moment later, pulled aside the curtain on the door, and left. Several minutes later he reappeared with – blessedly – an armful of dry wood which he set down in one of the room's ruined corners where a small chunk of the roof was missing. A fire was soon crackling and Galmak stared at it longingly, wishing he could shake some of last night's chill. To his amazement, Jas'ka stretched his lanky limbs and sauntered over to saw through the bonds.

"Don' try an' get out," the troll said with an evil smile, waving a dagger in a casual flourish. "Yah wouldn' like our orders on what ta do if yah try."

"Oh? And what are those?" Galmak asked. He was far more interested in the fire at the moment and the breakfast Lahgga was preparing.

"Kill yah," the troll said simply. Galmak spared him a look, but he couldn't tell from Jas'ka's face whether or not he was serious. On the one hand, why not? Var'kan and Teyagah had no love for him. But on the other hand he was here for some reason…

"Here," the tauren said and tossed him a skewer of meat. He caught it and took a seat by the fire, opposite the tauren. The meat was undercooked – hardly a problem for an orc's stomach – but tough and stringy. Galmak wasn't in the mood to be picky about his food and he ate his portion ravenously. Lahgga seemed no less hungry, but Jas'ka ate at a leisurely pace, watching the other two with idle interest. Galmak realized suddenly that the troll had his ears tuned more to what was going on outside the building and seemed more interested in the movements of the shades.

"They'll catch her, yah know," the troll said suddenly. Galmak didn't bother sparing him a look. He knew when he was being goaded.

"Maybe," he said. "But they haven't yet."

"How yah know?" Jas'ka laughed. "Dey maybe caught 'er already and got 'er back in dat room dere. Dey bleedin' her dry. Dey wan' her blood, yah know."

Now he looked over at the troll, brown eyes hard. "Do they? They haven't said yet. Somehow I think they'd be more interested in telling me than telling some brainless mercenary."

Jas'ka hissed and rocked forward threateningly, but one of Lahgga's giant hooves crashed down on the stone floor and brought him to a halt.

"Shut up, Jas'ka," the tauren drawled, somehow managing to sound menacing even as he lounged at ease with his breakfast in hand. "You let her get away but they haven't made you pay for it yet. Dunno why you care right now."

"Ah serve fo' da honor o' mah tribe," Jas'ka hissed and jabbed a finger toward Lahgga. "He da mercenary. Da Legion's Horde wants yo' mate an' yo' whelps, an' da Horde'll get dem."

Galmak's stomach lurched briefly in alarm before his common sense told him Jas'ka was making things up again. Var'kan and Teyagah knew nothing of his children; whatever their plans were, they didn't include the twins. That was cold comfort, though, knowing that it wouldn't make a bit of difference to the undead if they found out Hyara was pregnant.

"Whelps? What?" Lahgga said with a frown.

"She got two buns in da oven," Jas'ka answered with a grin.

The tauren's frown deepened and he cursed under his breath. "I didn't know that," he rumbled. "Didn't think– I'm not sure– " He faltered with a grimace.

"Now _you_ jus' shut up, mon!" Jas'ka laughed with obvious glee. "Goin' back out now? Goin' march in dere an' tell dem you's out an' don' bothah payin' yah?"

"No," the tauren said with steel in his voice and a blade's edge glare at his friend. "_I_ deliver on my contracts."

Galmak had held his silence during their exchange, willing himself to remain calm. Even so, he could feel the tantalizing edge of the Shadow dancing around his consciousness, cajoling him to give in once more and weave the power of a spell that would sear the life out of these two where they sat. It frightened him, the anger that seemed always to come with the urge to use those abilities. Did anger invariably go hand-in-hand with it, or had it always been merely the circumstances? He stared into the flames before him, wishing more than ever that the fire would speak to him again the way it had for so brief a time, wishing he could feel the steadying presence of the earth below him. Only the Shadow gnawed at his willpower, though, and only his own inner calm sustained him.

It was deceptive, the promise of the Shadow. He knew his control over it was only rudimentary still. He'd only ever used it in times of extreme anger or fear, not really thinking about what he did, roaring out to it in desperation and getting an easy, vindictive answer. He didn't know what might happen if he called on it in cold calculation. Could he make it respond with the power he'd felt before? Could he control it properly? Whatever the answer to those two questions, he found it highly unlikely that he could defeat, for a second time, two skilled warlocks who also commanded a small army of the spirits of the dead. Lahgga and Jas'ka he might be able to handle, but not the rest on his own. And then there were those runes… Did they dampen any power he could call on? He was reluctant to delve deeply enough into his abilities to find out, afraid not only of what he might reawaken in himself but also afraid that Var'kan and Teyagah would notice the sudden attempt to harness a power they thought they alone wielded here.

Palla spoke to him only a few minutes later, waking him from his grim reverie. Her tug on his mind was gentle and welcome, familiar as breathing after all their years together. It was a relief he didn't allow his face to reflect. Hyara was still safe, and miraculously, Olkhor was too. But it wasn't long before his wolf had to slip away to avoid what he guessed must be another patrol of sorts by the shades; as she slid away amongst the trees, he could feel the spirits moving slowly outward in a broken ring of cold malice. Hyara also moved further into the distance, and he reluctantly gathered his thoughts back into his stone prison. They had no ideas yet, just as he had none. For now they were all only discovering what their options might be. And for now, Galmak had to confess to a certain morbid curiosity about what Var'kan and Teyagah wanted from him.

As the afternoon wore on, however, they seemed content to let him come up with his own ideas. Galmak sat uneasily with the mostly silent tauren and troll, occasionally standing or walking to stretch his muscles and relieve his jitters. His two guards always watched him closely even as they went about their own quiet activities, playing a game or two or gathering wood for the sickly fire. The hall that presumably led to the area of the building where the undead were wasn't long, but the room at the end had a door that remained closed. Galmak could neither see nor hear anything of what they were doing.

Once he casually approached one of the runes he'd seen when he'd first woke, but Jas'ka darted to his side with an unsheathed dagger.

"Dere be more o' dose." The troll twisted the dagger point lightly against Galmak's back and nodded toward the rune. "Even if yah move one o' two, yah still won' get away alive. Sit back down or Ah tie yah back up."

He sat. There wasn't much else to do as long as the undead were determined not to speak to him. He'd been here only about half a day now, but it felt far longer.

About an hour later, the creak of a door sounded from the hall. His senses were instantly on alert, although he was careful to let his body betray none of his tension. Teyagah appeared once more in the room, this time hardly deigning to glance at the tauren and the troll. Her amber eyes locked with Galmak's.

"Come here," she said and beckoned sharply. Galmak hesitated a few seconds, then rose slowly to his feet. She pointed down the hallway. Her soft footsteps followed him as he made his way apprehensively toward the door, now standing ajar, at the other end of the hall.

The room he entered was small, and looked smaller still due to the tangle of furniture, equipment, books, and all manner of unidentifiable items scattered throughout. At first glance it was a mishmash compared to the bare room he'd just come from, but as his gaze swept the room and he took in more of it in detail, he could see that there was high order here. A small pallet and a pair of chairs occupied one corner, but that was the room's only concession to such comfort as the undead needed. Everything else was tables and work surfaces. Thick tomes whose pages crawled with odd symbols rested open or carefully marked in many places; stack after stack of miniature wooden boxes covered the entire surface of one table. Bulky leather sacks slouched against a wall behind and even the ceiling was adorned in one corner with the curled, drying plumes of bundled gromsblood and plaguebloom. The sight of the herbs and the faint smell that wafted to his nose made Galmak suddenly sick at heart for his mother, so far away and unaware of anything that had befallen him.

More of the tiny glass vials, many of them stoppered and containing what must be his mate's lifeblood, stood on one wide table. Beside them rested a wooden box, its lid open and showing a collection of small, smooth grey-black stones. Galmak frowned at them for a few seconds, thinking they looked familiar, before he identified them: they were the runes Var'kan had placed around the pool in the cave all those months ago, the things that had somehow drained his power and allowed the undead to enslave the shades.

"Welcome, young brother," Var'kan said, rising somewhat ponderously from one of the chairs in the corner. Galmak noticed that he balanced without help from the cane, but he also made no move away from the safety of the chair. Teyagah prodded her grandson forward and with a firm hand pushed him to sit on the floor before the other man. She remained standing disconcertingly behind Galmak and just to his right.

"Forget the pleasantries," Galmak growled up at the undead. "I'm here because I don't have a choice at the moment. If you're going to finally tell me– "

"Stay silent and listen!" Teyagah snapped. A fleeting look of annoyance crossed Var'kan's face and he hissed very softly in displeasure.

"Then we will forget the pleasantries," he said, casting a warning look at his mate. "This room is warded as well, so you will discover your skills useless here should you be foolish enough to test them. You are here until we choose to release you, which you will find will only occur under certain conditions."

Galmak's eyes narrowed and he couldn't help the look of suspicious surprise that passed over him. "What conditions are those?"

"We are already getting ahead of ourselves." Var'kan resumed his seat and motioned impatiently for Teyagah to take the chair beside him. She did so reluctantly, leaving Galmak on the floor before them and feeling like a child waiting for a bedtime story.

"You have seen our elemental slaves," Var'kan continued, "and you have seen, roughly, the methods by which we have enslaved them. They are useful tools to us, and they will be more useful still to the powers whom we serve. But do you know _how_ we have enslaved them?"

"You used those runes," Galmak answered cautiously. Where were they heading with this, exactly, and why would they care if he understood their methods or not?

"The runes, exactly. They were designed to focus and drain the power we found in you, and then store it for our own use. The addition of your mate's blood into our plans, and the… unusual… properties of her blood were fortuitous, and as it has turned out, vital. The blood, you see, preserves the power better than any other medium we could have easily acquired, and acts as a conduit."

"That still doesn't tell me how you enslaved them, assuming you're actually interested in telling me."

"There is no reason not to," Var'kan shrugged. "It's by your help that we have gotten this far, young brother, so we feel you should be rewarded with the knowledge." He flashed another grin and Galmak glowered up at him, thinking it would be impossible for him to be more distrustful of their motivations.

"We can no longer touch the Spirit of the Wilds," the undead continued, "but you can. You provided us with the contact, and from there… it was but a simple matter for me to put my own skills to work for the rest. These ruins, indeed this entire forest, churn with the unrest of the dead. There are always those incapable of moving on entirely from the lives they lost. Most of the time they are nothing more than a sigh of wind or a passing feeling of darkness, but with the right focus and a strong will to bind them to…" He chuckled unpleasantly.

"They are both Spirit and shade," Teyagah said with a satisfied smile. "And far better slaves than your mate, whom I undoubtedly would have disposed of by this time."

"As if you hadn't already done enough harm here," Galmak said, fairly shaking with fury but doing his best to control it, "you raise the spirits of the people you killed and throttle the life out of the Spirit you betrayed."

"It was you who betrayed the Spirit this time, young brother," Var'kan said with a saccharine, apologetic smile. "You should have suspected immediately what we were doing. It was a stroke of luck that you didn't, of course, but I find it incredible. Any trained shaman should have recognized the signs…"

Galmak felt suddenly sick. _Any trained shaman_. He'd made no effort to seek training because he hadn't embraced it, hadn't even fully believed it was his path. He'd thought he had plenty of time. He'd thought he could forge out on his own for a while, exploring and learning to accept. How arrogant he'd been, and how much he saw now it had cost him.

"Yet somehow you didn't," Var'kan sighed, cutting into his thoughts. "Perhaps we should blame your teachers for that. It is my understanding that shamanism has never served the new Horde in quite the same way it once served us."

He couldn't muster the defiance for a retort to that. If Var'kan had never told the truth before in his life, Galmak couldn't help thinking he did at least tell the truth now: he had betrayed the elements with his arrogance, the Spirit of the Wilds included. If only he'd accepted the words of the ancestors immediately and not believed he might know better.

Swallowing his shame, he asked, "You could have used any shaman. Why did you choose me?"

"You chose us," Var'kan replied. "Through your dreams. And it isn't precisely true that we could have used any shaman…" He stopped, smiling at Teyagah with satisfaction. "It was another stroke of good luck. You see, there are some who are more attuned to all the aspects of life than others. One aspect of life is death."

With a chill, Galmak remembered his revelation months ago in the cave. They were dead. All the people he'd ever spoken to in his dreams were dead in one way or another.

"It's not so surprising," Var'kan smiled, perhaps interpreting the look on the young orc's face. "The talents of death and the Shadow run strong in your family. I would expect you have been plagued with odd dreams since your earliest days in training as a shaman, young brother? It's a shame it took you so long to contact us; why, a little sooner, and…"

"What does any of this still have to do with me?" he cut in, teeth gritted. "You got what you wanted out of us last time."

"Ah." Var'kan leaned back in his chair and folded his hands across his chest, examining Galmak closely. Teyagah's amber eyes remained locked on her grandson, slightly narrowed in an expression that might have been a glare or a look of appraisal. The undead spoke again after a moment of pregnant silence. "Do the elements still heed you, young brother?"

Galmak found it far easier to nod and keep his mouth shut rather than tell an outright lie. Var'kan's grin didn't waver.

"But perhaps you have found it more difficult since then. They come less eagerly, grant your requests begrudgingly? The elements are a fickle master to serve, and an inconvenient one. We know well what their disfavor feels like."

_No_, that hadn't been it; they had still answered him after his time in the blood pool. They'd only abandoned him later because he'd chosen Hyara's wellbeing over them. He'd felt no reluctance from the elements during the escape from the cave, no feeling of anger during their journey back to the Barrens… had he? Or had it only been the urgency and insistence of his calling that had compelled the elements to answer him? No. He wouldn't believe that; Var'kan was merely trying to instill doubt. Done was done and he wouldn't have made any other decision, but the undead must continue to believe that he still followed the call of a shaman.

"The elements still answer me just as they did before," he lied defiantly.

"Ah, unfortunate," Var'kan sighed. "We had hoped you might not be so dangerous. I think then you'll be making a move, young brother… we will need to keep a closer eye on you." The undead hauled himself to his one good foot and gestured across the room. "Please. Sit against that wall."

Galmak glanced behind him at the room's single blank stretch of wall, his brow furrowed in a frown. Teyagah leaned over him suddenly and slipped an odd gold band around his wrist. He stared at it for half a second in consternation, watching tiny green runes march in lazy patterns across the surface, when he felt an abrupt jerk at his other wrist and it came snapping up to join in an invisible bond with the gold band. He yanked angrily at his new bindings to no avail; his wrists were stuck together as if wrapped in steel wire.

"Sit against the wall, or I will give you one for your feet too and drag you over there," Teyagah snapped impatiently.

He pushed himself to his feet with a snarl for her and aimed a sudden kick at Var'kan. The undead, caught by surprise and off balance, landed with a grunt in the chair behind him, and almost simultaneously Galmak sent an elbow flashing toward Teyagah.

She was quick, though; far faster than he would have believed, and apparently unhindered by the magic-dampening runes. A bolt of searing pain hit him in the chest and stopped his assault short, overbalancing him and sending him thudding breathless to the floor. He groaned. There was silence for a moment and then Teyagah knelt to his side, out of reach of a kick he might still try to direct at her, and grabbed him by the hair to force his face up.

"I had to try," he spat. Her eyes narrowed and her lips curled very slightly before she released him roughly and stood again.

"Over there, whelp, now, or I will kick you the whole way," she bit out.

This time he complied, dragging himself across the floor. The pain in his chest was beginning to lessen, turning to a stinging throb that would fade in a few more minutes. He watched with sullen anger as she produced another, larger, gold band and snapped it around an ankle. His feet were now restrained too, and all he could do was sit and watch them go about their business in the room.

Var'kan limped his way to the table scattered with vials of blood and held one up critically against the light before muttering some dark incantation. He paused and his eyes slid to the young orc across the room.

"Watch what we do if you care to, young brother," he said before replacing the vial on the table and selecting another. "Some of your mate's blood was, unfortunately, mixed with her brother's before we realized its unique properties. We had our own special store, you see, that wasn't going into the pool, and once we determined the difference we stopped combining them. Her brother's blood still has its own uses, of course, but our immediate uses here require samples that are only minimally contaminated, if at all."

Galmak realized that it was likely Var'kan's objective to make him seethe with that sort of matter-of-fact talk of Hyara's and Gheris's stolen blood, but that didn't make it any easier to endure. Instead of watching them, and rather than give Var'kan the satisfaction of his explanations, Galmak closed his eyes and leaned his head against the cool wall. He knew he wouldn't sleep in this room, or at least he wouldn't until he was desperately tired. No, what he wanted right now was only to concentrate on Hyara's precious sense, still free outside and full of worry and pain for him. With an effort, he stilled his anger and pushed the pain in his chest out of his consciousness. A moment later he felt her respond, calming herself and replacing her worry with love and support. He was never more grateful for their bond.

* * *


	29. III: Blessed by the Light

* * *

Daylight had passed with still no inkling of a plan. There'd been some dispirited talk of rushing the place after the shades had completed one of their patrols in hopes that the undead would have dismissed the creatures, but Gink and Palla had put that ill-conceived notion quickly to rest. Many of the shades were never fully dismissed, instead left to flit restlessly around the ruins on constant watch. It would never have worked in any case, Hyara admitted to herself. She had no illusions that she, Olkhor, and Chu'thog would fare very well in a head-on confrontation with Var'kan and Teyagah.

As the shadows between the trees deepened and their first full night at the ruins began to fall, Hyara watched the nubilous forms of the shades melt back toward the village. Their patrols were usually predictable and they shouldn't be back out for a few hours now. She found it odd that they never searched any further away, even though they'd thus far come up empty-handed every time. Obviously Var'kan and Teyagah believed she was still out here or they wouldn't continue the searches. Was distance a weakness, then, and the shades couldn't travel too far from their masters? Or was there some reason they weren't trying very hard right now to find her?

"They're gone for now," she whispered to Olkhor, who was sitting several feet away, munching a snack. Chu'thog was nowhere nearby; he'd slipped away earlier with a mutter about exploring some more. Hyara stepped over and dropped down to join Olkhor, taking a chunk of bread and dried talbuk. She was restless, though, and soon stood again. Her eyes seemed always magnetically drawn in the direction of the ruins.

"I'm going to circle west a ways," she decided suddenly, too restless to sit still at their camp.

Olkhor paused mid-bite and scowled up at her. "You don't see too well in the dark. Guess I'd better come along." He grumbled and started to get up, reaching for his axe.

"I did alright in the dark for years before I had orcs around to lead me by the hand, you know," she glared back. "I'll be fine. Gink will stay near. The shades won't be back out for a few hours."

Olkhor looked uncertain for a minute, but he must have decided she had a valid point. Other than his night vision, he was no great shakes at nighttime navigation through a dense forest. She, on the other hand, was an experienced hunter and had honed her skills under these conditions.

"Alright," he said grudgingly. "As long as you're back soon so I don't have to worry you'll get caught in the next patrol. Be back in an hour or less, will you?"

"An hour," she agreed.

At a command, Gink loped soundlessly through the trees and was soon padding along at her side. He didn't ask the logical question, but she felt it in him and answered anyway.

_I don't_ know _what more there is to see_, she told him in exasperation. _But I can't sit still back there. They're hurting Galmak. He doesn't know what they want from him if it's not simple revenge, and if there's any way trudging around through a dark forest will help me figure something out…_

She didn't need to explain any further. Gink understood. He darted his tongue out to lick her hand comfortingly and she patted his head in return.

Though it had only been a week since they'd come to Terokkar Forest, it felt by now that she'd spent half her life in this eerie place of green shadows and falling drops of light. It was all too familiar a feeling, stepping carefully through shadowy underbrush and around massive, twisted roots. She kept one eye on the village, alert for any irregularities that might indicate she'd run into unexpected trouble. Only her own careful, soft hoofsteps and the usual nighttime chorus of insects and small animals surrounded her, though.

As they made their rounds and swung south to continue their partial circle, Gink's nose raised to sniff the wind. Hyara felt a presence somewhere in front of them and she slowed cautiously although she could guess who it was. A hulking shape loomed suddenly from behind a tree.

"Shhh," it hissed loudly. "Watching."

Hyara walked over to the ogre and her eyes followed the direction of his thick finger.

"Have you seen anything?" she whispered.

To her surprise, Chu'thog nodded. "Tauren came out and got firewood. Now smoke rising up." He sniffed the wind illustratively. "He come out in morning and evening, usually."

They were a little closer at this position and she could clearly see sections of the crumbling wall, along with the jagged outlines of a few buildings, through the trees despite the darkness. The subdued glow of the crystals threw odd shadows that leapt blackly across the nearby vegetation. They were arranged in some patterns that were familiar to her from home and she knew that, had the buildings been intact, the glow of the crystals would have been designed to give soft, pleasing illumination to the village's public areas.

She stared for a moment, watching for any more movement, but also once again lost in thoughts of the dead village.

"I'm going a little further in," she said on impulse. Gink whined and she felt him brush wordless caution against her mind.

"You go further in?" Chu'thog said. In the low light, a frown was barely discernable on his broad face. "I don't think… that not a good idea."

"The shades are in for now and the tauren just got his firewood. I won't take long. I just want to get a better look at the village." She hated to think what Olkhor would have had to say about this, but the frustration of the past twenty-four hours compelled her to try something different.

"I come closer too then," Chu'thog said doubtfully.

Hyara didn't protest, since she knew how remarkably silently he could move for his size. She gave Gink a firm command and he went trotting off ahead of them to scout. With barely a rustle of leaves, she started toward the village with the ogre's dark bulk following close behind.

She could feel the shades before they'd covered half the distance toward the tumbled stone walls. The feel was hazy, rarified; they were like extensions of the watery green light and shadows, flitting, tired birds trapped inside the cage of the village. They darted restlessly but never flew beyond the bounds of the walls. The air tasted cold and bitter.

Chu'thog also felt them. Hyara turned, sensing her companion had fallen back, and saw the ogre's dark outline frozen beside an olemba trunk. He shook his head slowly and raised a finger to his lips, then motioned her urgently back. She stepped back reluctantly and shook her own head up at him.

"I'm going on."

"You crazy like my cousin," the ogre whispered.

"I can feel where they are. My cat will help too. I'm also a lot smaller than you are and I don't stick out like a walking tree," she said with a half-smile.

Chu'thog huffed quietly and he seemed to consider tucking her under an arm and simply walking away. He sent a look toward Gink, then sized her up again. "Okay," he finally agreed. "I stay right here and come help if you get in trouble. Chu'thog charge in and crack heads then, okay?"

"Only if I yell," she said hastily, and he nodded again. She left him sitting crouched beside the tree, his body a leathery lump in the darkness, eyes turned vigilantly in her direction.

Before long, Hyara was sliding out of the last underbrush and the scarred stone walls rose only an arm's length in front of her. A maze of cracks twisted across the carved surface, marred further by blackened pits and even enormous chunks blown away in many places. Something other than time and nature had caused most of this damage. She ran her fingertips lightly across the pit of one great crater, shivering slightly at the cool tingle of the wind as it blew across the stone. Gink was nosing carefully along the length of the wall to her right. She followed him, pushing silently through encroaching bushes. Ahead, the rocky hill loomed to the back of the village. It marked the termination of the wall into the cliff face, but first darker forces and then the forest had breached the wall and betrayed its smooth, impassive defense. A hole gaped ahead, strewn with jagged chunks of stone and the reaching arms of bushes, weeds, and branches that poured rampant through the gap in search of meager sunlight in the village's small clearing. After a careful search with her hunter's senses and her eyes, Hyara followed the forest's lead through the opening in the wall.

Somehow, she felt the shades more strongly once inside. She was on their ground now. They moved in a tangle or as individuals, seemingly without direction or purpose unless granted it by their "masters." Involuntarily, Hyara pressed backward against the wall to one side of the gap as if she could melt and make herself invisible. The things were not near. She counted slowly to ten and forced her hooves to move in the direction of Galmak's sense, strong and by now more than a little alarmed – he could feel she was very close.

Gink, all but invisible as he padded through the debris ahead of her, turned his head and allowed his eyes to glint once in the forest's light to show her the way behind the huddled shapes of ruined houses. His uneasiness and Galmak's alarm warred in her head with what she was doing. With time-honed skill, she was able to dampen her cat's worry, but Galmak's feelings still clouded her head. Reluctantly, Hyara paused. She would need to concentrate for a moment on constricting the bond to some manageable level of emotion. Gink sent her a question and she made him understand wordlessly. Her cat slunk ahead to peer watchfully beyond the edge of a building while he waited for his mistress to regain her composure.

She picked her way across the littered stone further toward the cliff face, careful to keep her hooves from knocking against any of the debris, and chose a shadowed seat on a fallen chunk of wall. The wind blew coolly across her face from the rocky cliff behind her, speaking of an upper world of fresher air beyond the forest's damp, and she closed her eyes for a moment of calm. She was safe for now; Gink would alert her if the shades came near. In another moment, Galmak would surely begin to sense that from her. _I'm safe. The twins are safe, love. Just coming to visit._ She wished more than ever that they could speak with words the way she could with her cat.

A soft sigh and a low moan rose behind her. She jumped, barely stifling a cry, and whirled to face the cliff. There was nothing. No blue haze wavered against the black of the tumbled rocks and her senses still told her she was alone. With her heart pounding, she stepped closer to the cliff. What had caused the sound, then?

Several huge boulders were stacked against the cliff in a heap – nature's work, not the work of either the villagers or their attackers – and threw deep, sheltering shadows over this section of the cliff. Vines crept over the rock face and covered it with a feathery green curtain that danced and rustled in the light breeze. Hyara ran her fingers over the glossy leaves and peered more closely, disbelieving what her eyes were beginning to make out in the green darkness. The cliff face wasn't solid right here. Behind the vines, a deeper patch of blackness lurked. When she pressed against the leaves, the springy vines were the only barrier her hand encountered. Hyara sniffed the faint breeze that blew across her face, and now she noticed that the air was still damp here but smelled of stone and earth and not the humid life of the forest.

_Gink_…

Her cat was just behind her, having rushed to her side at the first sign of alarm. He pressed his muzzle into the creeping foliage and confirmed. _There's an opening here; a cave_.

A shiver traveled over her and she glanced apprehensively behind her into the night. Still there was no sign of nearby movement. Peering behind the curtain of vines, she could barely make out the first few steps of a roughhewn rocky stairway leading downward under the hill. She knelt and carefully pulled aside a small patch of vines near the ground, just enough… enough that she could wriggle through without signs of a disturbance in the cliff face here. Her heart was in her throat now.

Gink knew what she was up to and he growled very softly. He watched his mistress slide through the hole and considered dragging her back out by the seat of her pants. _Why?_ he snarled into her head as he crouched to wriggle through after her.

_I don't know_, she answered with a shrug. _I just feel_…

And that was the only answer she could give him.

The stone ceiling was higher inside than the cave opening and she was able to stand upright easily. In the dimness, flecks of mica caught an occasional flash of light from outside and glimmered like miniature stars. Hyara hesitated for a few heartbeats, staring down into the blackness of the rocky stairway, but something compelled her to go on. She thought briefly with a grim smile of the foolish T'chak in Jas'ka's ghost story as she placed a hoof cautiously on the first uneven step and began the descent.

Gink blazed her trail with his cat's eyes, warning her of loose stones and uneven steps. The going was slow and treacherous. She kept both hands on the narrow walls to either side, tail swaying for balance, and moved ahead only when she was certain her hooves were on solid stone. After her second time nearly pitching headfirst down the stairs, she gave up and sat down to slide downward one step at a time. Gradually she began to notice a change in her surroundings, though. Reaching a hand forward, she realized in amazement that the darkness wasn't quite so black any longer – she could see the dim, charcoal outline of her hand in the air before her. There was light seeping faintly upward from somewhere ahead.

She felt a strange calm beginning to suffuse her. The feeling was familiar, one of serenity and devotion that reminded her of stepping inside the Exodar. Her heart fluttered and she swallowed a gasp as she became aware of yet another sensation – slowly but surely, a headache was beginning to throb dully behind her eyes. That too was familiar in connection with the Exodar.

Ahead, after what seemed like an eternity descending in darkness, her cat stopped short. The light was far brighter now and she could see him dimly outlined below her, head raised and nose sniffing the faint breeze. His sense registered astonishment.

_Gink…?_ she asked hesitantly, standing now in the greater light and continuing cautiously. He turned his head to look at her briefly and then he slunk down the last step to disappear around a jutting stone corner. A few seconds later she rounded the corner herself and burst full into the source of the light.

It was a cavern, not small, but still only about twice the size of the largest building she'd seen in the village. The floor was grey stone, polished to a dull sheen or possibly worn smooth by the passage of many hooves over many years. The walls were rough, raw rock, carved by nature, and held the myriad facets of countless tiny crystals, gleaming and glittering in brilliant pinpoints of light that seemed to drip and shimmer in waves as she turned her head to look around her in awe. The cavern's light itself pulsed not from the tiny crystals, however, but from much larger ones, blue and purple, fluted and delicate or strong and thick, carefully cultivated in the ancient ways of the draenei. Some towered high with wide bases, rising to the ceiling like trees; others clumped tightly together in shorter bunches like bushes, as if they mirrored the forest above. And it truly did look like a fragile, glittering forest from where she stood – crystals carefully grown in groves, their branched and faceted points jutting to shelter the worn paths in the floor. Their light drenched the chamber, and through the air, Hyara felt the Light singing clearly. It was a shrine, a place of worship. She felt the hot tracks of tears sliding down her cheeks and she could do nothing else but kneel in such a sacred place.

Gink had not gone any further in, out of respect for whatever his mistress would choose to do here. He could sense the importance of this find to her and he held motionless nearby while her eyes closed and her lips moved for a few moments in prayer.

At last, Hyara rose. Her headache had grown more insistent in the Light-saturated atmosphere, but she ignored it with hardly an effort and wandered slowly between the foremost of the crystals. There were no shadows here; the soft, steady radiance drenched the entire chamber even to the vaulted ceiling. She peered around in all directions, trying to take it all in at once, and now she began to notice the details of the room that had escaped her in the shock of first discovery. There were dark things bundled on the floor here and there and items scattered around. Her stomach flipped over and she involuntarily pressed a hand to her mouth. _Oh Light, I don't want to find that here_…

But she had to know. Reluctantly, and with her heart pounding in her ears, she approached one of the smaller bundles. It was cloth, rotted and tattered, perhaps had once been a blanket. She nudged it gingerly with a hoof and part of it frayed away in shreds. Her hoof prodded the middle… and met only softness. Nothing. The blanket was empty. With intense relief, Hyara kicked it all the way open to be sure. The next bundled cloth, much larger, yielded the same result, and the next, and the next…

The items scattered around proved to be cooking implements, a few personal effects, a sodden, rotted book that fell to mush when she touched it. There were no telltale, long-dried dark stains on the walls or floor. With astonishment and more tears rising, Hyara realized the truth of this place. The villagers had _hidden_ here in their sacred shrine to the Light; they had survived and escaped. Some had been left to defend the village and they had fallen while their families and friends lived to flee.

_No one died here_, Gink said and she nodded with a tearful smile.

She knelt again in relief and said another prayer of thanks to the Light. It was another several minutes before she felt ready to open her eyes again and, despite the persistent headache, the thought struck her that she would have been glad to stay here for much longer. That thought led immediately to another, however, and she sprang to her hooves in alarm. It had been well over an hour by now since she'd left Olkhor.

_Oh Light, Gink, what's he going to do?_ She could just picture him becoming more and more angry, eventually blundering his way around the whole village and finding nothing. He'd either get himself lost or be picked up in the shades' next search.

_We can't leave now_, Gink replied, and she reluctantly had to agree. It was too close to time. If the shades started out even a little early, they would catch her before she could get far enough away from the ruins. They'd have to wait it out now and hope Olkhor would keep his cool.

_Olkhor has any kind of cool to keep?_ Gink thought cynically and she laughed, settling back down amid the crystals to wait.

She had gotten her wish to stay longer, and she was glad for that despite the circumstances. Her eyes traveled around the chamber and she tried to picture the scene as it must have been all those years ago. Families huddled here, waiting as the Legion's orcish army marched toward them, fearing for the lives of those they'd left above to defend their homes. They must have known by then that it was a doomed effort. Where had they gone afterward, once the dust and the blood settled? Shattrath, perhaps, only to endure the nightmare all over again a short time later. Or perhaps somehow, miraculously, they'd been the last of the draenei in Terokkar Forest. Maybe by that time there'd been nowhere to flee but the marsh, praying they'd be able to find their fellow survivors before they starved or were caught. Thoughts of those times seemed more immediate here, as if she could sense the imprints the people had left in this cave, the emotions that had resonated between the crystals and choked the air.

She rested a hand on her gently swelling stomach and tried instead to think of the beauty and worship this place was intended to inspire. They had lived to leave here and probably many of them lived still to worship the Light. She might know some of the people who had sat in fear in this cave. The village above was dead now, but this cave embodied life and Light. With a start, she realized that Galmak's sense above her had been oddly subdued and silent since she'd come down here, as if he were merely listening to her emotions in confusion and wonder. She reached out and brushed fondly across his mind, then felt him respond a little hesitantly. She smiled to herself, recognizing his utter bafflement.

The minutes passed with only the faint whistle of wind from above to mark them. Hyara remained motionless in meditation with Gink close by her side, his ears pricked toward any small sound that might give alarm. But nothing stirred, and eventually they both decided they had allowed enough time to pass. They rose, hooves clicking softly and huge paws utterly silent on the worn stone floor, and started back up the inky blackness of the stair. As the last of the light faded below her, Hyara promised herself that she'd return.

The dead village seemed just as they'd left it. Gink emerged first from the small rift in the vines with only a slight rustle of leaves to mark his invisible passage. He paused for a long minute, nose upturned to the damp wind and glittering eyes darting across the ruined buildings.

_All clear_, he finally assessed.

Hyara nodded to herself, sensing the shades back where they had been when she'd entered. She wriggled quietly out of the cave mouth, crouched in the shadows for a moment to perform her own scrutiny of their surroundings, and then she slipped off just behind her cat toward the tumbled village wall. She wasn't sure if she'd find Chu'thog where she'd left him more than an hour ago, but it was a logical place to start. If he wasn't there, she'd circle back around to the camp and wait for someone to show up, assuming Olkhor had bolted.

As it happened, Chu'thog was right where she'd left him, having moved back in closer once the shades had stopped searching, and Olkhor had in fact bolted off in alarm to look for her when she hadn't returned. He'd eventually run into the ogre and now they were both waiting for her to reappear from the ruins. Chu'thog was noticeably worried; Olkhor was clearly livid.

"Where the fuck have you been," the orc snarled when at last she drew near enough to hear him. Hyara sighed inwardly and made a face.

"I've been safe," she attempted to soothe him. "I had to wait until the shades had gone back before I came out."

"And _where_ have you _been_?" he repeated in a dangerous growl, reminding her forcibly of her grandfather. It was enough to make her lips twitch in amusement, but she quickly stifled the smile at the look on his face.

"In the village," she said, and started the walk back around to the camp. Palla slipped suddenly out of the bushes to her right and fell into step beside Gink. She imagined they were hashing things out between them and Galmak would eventually hear about her discovery.

She heard another threatening growl beginning in Olkhor's throat and she laid a hand on his arm. "Olkhor, I went inside to see if I could get close to Galmak. I could tell where the shades were and I stayed away from them. Gink was with me. Please, trust me; I was in a safe place. I'm sorry I scared you."

"You scare us," Chu'thog rumbled from just behind, latching onto part of the conversation. "I not hear you yell so I tell him to wait. But you scare us for sure."

"You tell me you'll be back in an hour, you damn well be back in an hour," Olkhor scowled intractably. "Wouldn't like to have to explain to Galmak how I didn't take care of you and let you wander off and get yourself caught."

"I wasn't wandering– "

"You've got two whelps along for the ride too, you know, and meanwhile I have to trust the word of this damned ogre who let you go in the first place– "

With a sigh, she let him continue. It probably did him some good to blow off steam; at least he cared enough to be worried. She didn't yet feel ready to tell him where exactly she'd been and she wasn't sure it would make a difference in his anger anyway. Her own apprehension at entering the cave was all too fresh in her mind and she realized it could just as easily have turned out badly. That feeling though… It had been as if the Light had welcomed her discovery, had called its daughter down to see a place that shouldn't have remained hidden for so long.

"Only way I knew you hadn't been caught was when the shades came out looking as usual," he finished in a growl, sounding more outraged than when he'd begun.

"Well I'm safe now." She patted his arm. "And I was safe where I was in the village. I found a place no one had been for years and years and I hid there until the shades had gone again."

"A place…?" he frowned at her in the darkness, curiosity warring with righteous indignation at the risk she'd taken.

She glanced behind at Chu'thog, then shrugged to herself. An ogre would probably be lucky to get his head and shoulders alone inside the cave entrance. "It was the village's temple to the Light. A cave under the hill." She swallowed, and to her annoyance, felt a few tears sting her eyes again. "Olkhor, they hid there. I think most of them survived and fled afterward."

Their progress through the brush was the only sound for a few moments. Olkhor's eyes scanned their path straight ahead.

"Always did wonder," he said softly. Hyara's head snapped around to look at him, her mind not quite wanting to comprehend what he meant. But he continued, "There weren't very many of them when we came. Not many families; maybe a child or two is all I saw. Barely any resistance. The ones who were left fought like animals, though. It was a small village and we thought most had already fled, to Shattrath, maybe. We thought maybe that was all who lived there in the first place. The truth is, we didn't think at all, we just slaughtered."

Blinking at him in the darkness, she tripped over a root and barely caught herself. Her breathing came a little faster and the tears were falling again. She'd always known he'd played some part in the destruction of her people. It had always been an abstract fact, detailess, easy to look beyond because he'd been such a sad sack when they'd first met him and he'd never volunteered much information about those times. Behind them, Chu'thog made an odd sound almost like a sigh. Hyara kept her face forward and refused to concede to her tears enough to wipe them away.

"Hyara…" Olkhor said gruffly and she was startled to realize it was the first time she could remember him addressing her directly by name.

"No. No, I don't want to talk about it," she managed, and looked away.

"Don't blame you for hating me," he growled with a shrug. "You're not the first or only."

"I don't hate you, Olkhor." It was the truth, gods help her. There were many of her people who _would_ hate him though, and many who would hate _her_ for not hating him. And for the first time, she felt a point had really and truly been driven home. For the first time, she could truly understand that hatred. She was young; she'd grown up on Azeroth. She'd been sheltered by people who loved her, from her grandfather to her parents to Gheris and any other adult within reach. They had all seen what there was to shelter her from and their hatred, if they harbored it, wasn't an unnatural, perverse thing. It was real, because of things that had been done to them. They were the ones who'd sat huddled in a cave so she could live her life decades later… and marry an orc. She could be young and enlightened and roll her eyes at them, but they weren't just being old and stubborn. They were remembering their fear; they were remembering running for their lives through the marsh with starvation snapping at their hooves; they were remembering the terrifying look of reddened, demon-crazed eyes. It was no wonder they whispered about her in the Exodar. She had known all that intellectually before; tonight she felt it in her gut.

"Then it's a miracle," Olkhor replied, "and Galmak is lucky."

Hyara stopped abruptly. He stopped also and turned to face her in the darkness with his pale red eyes glinting faintly. Chu'thog had fallen several of his huge strides behind them and now, in a move that would have seemed comical at any other time, he too stopped and backed up a few more strides with exaggerated care.

"Galmak is _not_ lucky, if you mean it the way I think you mean it. Galmak is a better man than you, Olkhor. He shares none of your guilt for the past and I don't think he would have done any of the things you did if he'd lived through those times. He doesn't love me because it somehow assuages his racial guilt and I don't love him because he's forbidden. We love each other because we were made for each other. So no, Galmak isn't _lucky_ that someone came along and eased his conscience, because no matter what he thought before, he was guiltless. But I do forgive you, Olkhor, because despite what you did in the past, you're not a bad person." She swallowed and turned away, ashamed of her tears. Only the forest spoke around them for a moment.

"Uh oh," Chu'thog said softly all of a sudden. "He crying now."

"I'm not crying, you miserable, rock-skulled meathead!" Olkhor snarled.

Hyara ventured a look. It might have been only her own tears in the way, but she thought the orc's eyes looked unnaturally bright.

"Olkhor doesn't cry," she corrected Chu'thog with the ghost of a smile.

"That's right I don't. I do my damndest to forget things before I cry about them. Don't think I'll be forgetting all this anytime soon, though." He cleared his throat and kicked a boot against a stone, then looked her straight in the eye. "I'm sorry, Hyara."

She was startled, but she managed a smile. "No more apologies. That's the second time you've apologized to me, and it's two more times than you're used to. Just be a good uncle to my babies and help me get their father back, alright?"

A smile threatened on his lined old face for a moment before he turned it to his characteristic grimace. "Come on, move your asses then," he said gruffly, starting swiftly forward again. "We have a camp to get back to and some sleep to catch."

"Chu'thog confused," the ogre said pensively as they finally reached their camp on the east side of the ruins. "You have babies, he their uncle" – he pointed at Olkhor – "who your mate inside village? Olkhor have brother young enough to be his grandson, or you like old men?"

Olkhor snorted and shook his head as he held a flame to a pile of kindling for their tiny fire. It was well obscured by a tree and they'd determined it wouldn't be visible from the village.

Hyara grinned. "Adoptive brother, more like. They're from the same clan. My mate is an orc, I'm sure you've guessed."

"I guessed," Chu'thog nodded eagerly. "Why else would draenei be around this orc? Besides, no other draenei say 'mate' that I ever hear. They not civilized enough for that and they say strange word instead."

" 'Husband' or 'wife', " Hyara smiled.

"Yeah, that." The giant ogre dropped heavily to the ground and reached inside a leather satchel hanging from his shoulder. He held up three plump, skinned and gutted rabbits, looking pleased with himself. "We have fresh rabbit tonight! You ruin them by cooking them though, huh?" He sniffed at Hyara.

"I most certainly will," she said, hastily taking one of them away from him before he could pull off a huge raw chunk.

"Her mate hasn't civilized her enough yet," Olkhor commented with a sly look.

"Hah! You right. And orc does have sense of humor!" Chu'thog chuckled. "Weak, but alive. That a good sign."

By the time Hyara's dinner had finally finished cooking, her stomach was protesting mightily. Olkhor and Chu'thog had finished their dinner already and settled down drowsily around the fire. She ate absently, staring off into the trees. The day had been entirely unproductive as far as freeing Galmak went, and she realized with a heart-sick feeling that she might have to resign herself to a waiting game for a while. They were deadlocked for now in the proverbial game of cat and mouse. They needed something to tip the scales.

"Did you learn anything useful?" Olkhor asked quietly, likely guessing the direction of her thoughts.

She blinked and sighed. "Not really, I guess. The cave is there, but it doesn't lead us to him. He's in the biggest building not far from the cave entrance, but we knew that already… And now he's stuck in the same room with Var'kan and Teyagah," she added. "They told him they were trying to find out if he's any less dangerous now. I don't see why they'd capture him for that…?"

Olkhor yawned and then scowled powerfully toward the ruins. "Doesn't make any damn sense. He should have snuffed those two out when he had the chance, that's for sure. Not that he didn't really try. Slippery bunch, they are."

* * *


	30. III: Closer to the Truth

* * *

A/N: Sigh... so many hits, so few reviews. Is it summer laziness?

* * *

The clink of vials and the mutter of spells was a perpetual companion all day and into the night. Hyara had been very close earlier and had slipped away hours ago, leaving Galmak utterly confused. What she had been doing and how she had managed to avoid the shades for so long when it seemed she'd been right inside the village were mysteries he hadn't yet solved.

Galmak watched the undead as they worked, but there was only so much watching he could do. He had no idea what they were doing and most of it didn't seem particularly interesting. Most of it didn't even seem particularly dangerous or dark, but then abruptly one of them would scribe some rune or cast a spell that made his skin prickle across the room.

Lahgga and then Jas'ka came in over the course of the day to take him just outside to attend his inevitable needs. He could glimpse a few runes like the ones in the building placed around the area they brought him to, and his hands remained bound. They brought him food a few times a day and then they freed his hands so he could eat, but his feet were still locked tight in their gold band. Otherwise, he was largely ignored. It was wearing and maddening. Perhaps that was their goal, he thought cynically.

"Just how big an army are you preparing?" he asked at one point in irritation.

Var'kan glanced at him briefly; Teyagah didn't even twitch. "We are only preparing vials at this time, young brother. The spirits to be enslaved at this place are limited."

"Too bad you'll run out of blood eventually. What will you do then?" he asked snidely.

"Only if we don't catch my little slave again," Teyagah said without turning from her work. "She could live for years as our milk-cow. I expect you would be happy to be reunited with her before you die, whelp."

"Am I only here to lure in Hyara, then?" He could only hope for a direct answer to that question; he didn't think he'd get it.

"A useful secondary function, perhaps," Var'kan said with a grin.

No such luck then. Galmak scowled darkly at the opposite wall and tested the bonds again; they were tight as ever.

When he wasn't directly observing Var'kan and Teyagah, his eyes traveled over the rest of the room's contents. Most boxes and vials were unlabeled, containing substances he could only guess at, but what else did he have to do but wonder? Many of the other items in the room the undead left untouched. Seemingly, they had nothing to do with their activities centered around Hyara's blood. This made him curious, and eventually he decided to start asking more questions. They'd decided to bring him in here; as far as he was concerned, they could deal with the consequences, which included hearing his questions.

"What's all the rest of this for?" he asked, favoring a direct approach.

This time Var'kan didn't turn, but he replied anyway. "Those items we will be using eventually, I hope. They concern a later stage of our plans here."

"Which are, specifically?" He was getting sick of their vague, evasive answers.

"I'm afraid you're not likely to understand much of that, young brother."

"Try me," he growled.

Teyagah turned very slightly with her face twisted in an unpleasant smile; Var'kan chuckled.

"The Shadow is entirely different from your experience." The undead paused his work, replacing a vial carefully on the table, and swiveled around on his chair. "It is not called upon, exactly; it is seized and directed. It is a slave to our greater wills, as long as we have strength and wit to control it. It channels the forces of corruption and death, and yet – I see your disgust, young brother – it is as natural a part of our universe as the humans' precious Light or the power of the elements."

Against his will, Galmak found himself cautiously interested. But he said, "I didn't ask for a lecture on the Shadow. I asked what else you're doing here."

"Ah, but it is all of a piece. I said you are unlikely to understand… I am making it more likely you will understand. The Shadow, you see, is integral and essential to the well-being of life. There is balance in all things. Life begins very naturally, and just as naturally, someday it must end. We embrace the end, unlike some, who fear it."

"You haven't embraced anything!" Galmak pointed out in incredulous outrage. "You've cheated death by raising yourselves and going on. You claim yourselves immortal now."

"Cheated death?" Var'kan laughed. "We have embraced death. We are dead, young brother, though you call us undead. The distinction is that rather than succumbing to oblivion after death with nothing but a whimper, we have found our ways of continuing. We serve the great balance from the other side of the grave. It is a great lie that only the living should be granted the ability to move around, to interact with the world and serve the cause they choose. I have already told you that one aspect of life is death… in this way, we still serve the Spirit of the Wilds."

Galmak shook his head in disbelief. It was outrageous. Var'kan spoke of balance, he spoke of his mastery of the Shadow and his servitude to the Spirit in the same breath.

"You can't possibly believe that…?" the young orc said, his voice full of uncertainty and astonishment.

"We do," Teyagah said firmly, speaking for the first time in hours. "But not in the way you think, whelp. Our role is adversarial. We surrendered a connection reserved for the living in favor of new roles in undeath."

"Tell me, young brother, how does it feel when the Spirit speaks to you?"

He blinked blankly at Var'kan for a few seconds, caught off-guard and unsure how to answer. The Spirit hadn't spoken to him ever, and it certainly wasn't likely to start speaking to him since he'd severed his connection with the elements. Supposedly the Spirit had once spoken to these two though, and they would recognize any lie he told about it. He was about to tell them something along the lines of it being none of their business, when Var'kan cut him off.

"Or perhaps you were never aware of the Spirit's voice," the undead smiled in a disconcerting guess. "The Shadow is nothing like that. The Shadow screams through your mind and gives you no rest unless you learn to be its master."

It was more disconcerting news. That tug he'd always felt, that persistent urge like some jagged-toothed beast worrying at his consciousness, was the Shadow. He'd always realized that even from the first day, and he'd assumed he'd have to live with it. He'd assumed anyone who dabbled in such horrible things did. He'd learned, too, the extreme danger of that. Emotion drew the power out of him in unpredictable ways and there had been times in the past few months when he'd felt himself beyond his own control. It chilled him to wonder what things he might still do in the future, in moments where his careful but tenuous rein faltered. And now Var'kan, whom he wouldn't have trusted as far as he could throw him, was saying that lack of control would persist unless he embraced the Shadow and learned how to use it. Galmak knew in his gut that it was the truth.

"What the spirits say to me isn't your concern," he growled weakly.

"They demand humility and obedience, that we know. It is the same for every shaman. You are bound to obey their whims and they only grant the help you seek when they deem your cause worthy."

Galmak frowned. "I know all that. What does this have to do with anything?"

Var'kan countered Galmak's frown with a maddening smile. "You play at being humble, young brother, but there is a very independent strength in you. You don't enjoy being told what to do or made to beg."

"You are very like your mother, whelp," Teyagah added with a knowing nod.

They were both staring at him predatorily. Galmak felt faint traces of sweat pricking his brow.

"What are you saying?" he asked, fearing the answer.

"I'm saying that you are standing very near the edge, young brother," Var'kan said quietly. He hobbled over and stood looking down at the other orc with his one remaining amber eye. "We could feel a difference when you arrived here. The elements are slipping away from you."

"If you haven't yet begun to feel the Shadow creeping in, you will soon," Teyagah said. "Just as your mother did. She was very young and the elements had gone silent for all of us by that time. The Shadow would give her no rest until she had seized it by the throat and made it her own."

Voice defiant and betraying none of the dread he felt, he asked, "And what if I refuse it? Assuming what you're telling me is even true."

"Then it will destroy you," Var'kan said simply and turned back to his work. "No one with such a strong predisposition to the Shadow can safely ignore it for long. You have entered the mouth of a tunnel and now you are being pushed along from behind with nowhere to go but forward. Either continue or be trampled."

They must have known or guessed or hoped even before he'd been brought here then. He'd tried to hide it, but it hadn't mattered.

"I suppose you're going to offer to guide me," he said grimly.

Var'kan turned around again abruptly, grinning and spreading his hands in a mocking, generous gesture. "Of course! Your power is too great to pass up for observation. You were a useful tool to us at our earlier encounter, but we learned at the end that to use you only in that way would be to squander you. You have impressed us, you see."

He glared powerfully, angry with the whole situation. Var'kan was surely right about his talents, and that fact was disgusting. "And here I thought you wanted revenge," he commented sourly.

"Revenge is an overrated concept," Var'kan chuckled. "Perhaps revenge was our immediate thought… but that would have been foolish. Luckily for you, young brother. And then, we ourselves are not the only ones who have taken an interest in this situation."

"What?" Galmak frowned. "You mean the Legion?"

"He very likely means the Legion, whelp, as that is whom we have always served." Teyagah's smile was tight and private, making him think of a joke he'd been pointedly left out of. It was possibly the worst news of all. He frowned down at the floor for a moment in consideration, but really his decision was already made. They didn't actually know he'd completely lost contact with the elements and they still didn't need to know it.

"I won't abandon the honored path of my clan, unlike you," he said defiantly.

They stared at him, Var'kan in impassive speculation and Teyagah with open anger and scorn. "You won't abandon it _now_," she spat suddenly and whirled away, bringing both fists down violently on the tabletop. Vials clinked and jumped; the one Var'kan had been working on tipped and spilled its azure contents across the work surface. He rested a restraining hand on her shoulder and said something too softly for Galmak to catch. Teyagah sat and began thumbing furiously through an open tome.

Galmak slept that night despite the incessant clink of vials and mutter of shadowy incantations, and then woke in the very early morning just before dawn. Much to his deep unease, Hyara's sense was once again very near.

* * *

The hour before dawn seemed the blackest in the forest. It wasn't exactly the light; the light, or lack thereof, was just the same at any hour of the night. It was more that the forest seemed to be holding its breath, daring to make fewer sounds in the small hours of the morning. Everything waited in silence for the sun's permission to begin.

Hyara chose this time to make another visit to the cave. Palla had noted the shades out again and then back in the village only a few minutes before the draenei had set off through the trees. She'd left the camp with only a hard glare and a resigned grumble from Olkhor. He was reluctant, she noticed now, to stand in the way of her going, and even more reluctant to talk about where she went. It would be a fast trip in and back out, she'd promised him, and dawn wouldn't have broken by the time she slipped from behind the ruined wall.

Her mate was obviously awake when she arrived, and she clearly sensed that he was unhappy to have her back under the same mysterious circumstances as the night before. Palla would be getting to him soon, though, and it wouldn't be long before he understood. But Hyara didn't think even an explanation would set him at ease, and she sighed to herself as she began the long descent on the dark stone steps.

The cavern glowed in the same serene, Light-drenched silence that it must have for decades. Gink settled on the floor just around the corner from the stair with his ears pricked toward any sounds from above, and Hyara knelt in the center of the crystal forest to close her eyes in calm and prayer. She prayed her own calm would help Galmak as well.

After only a few moments, she rose with a clearer head and, if not a lighter heart, at least a less despairing one. Gink's tail disappeared up the stone stair, followed closely by her own. Dawn was still to come and Olkhor could stop worrying soon.

* * *

The next few days brought Galmak a feeling of routine established. He came to look forward to the feel of Hyara drawing nearer every morning before sunrise even as it brought his heart into his throat with worry each time. He knew now what she was doing in the village and, when calm began to suffuse the bond and he knew she was safely in her sanctuary, he would close his eyes and join her, imagining himself at her side.

He was brought outside regularly in the daylight, sometimes by Jas'ka, sometimes by Lahgga. As far as he could tell, the two had very little else to do here and seemed to pass their time in the main room playing at cards and dice games when they weren't on some sort of guard duty. Jas'ka would occasionally stroll around the village. Lahgga remained inside and away from the shades as much as possible. Galmak scornfully supposed that this had to be the easiest mercenary job he'd ever taken.

Var'kan and Teyagah had begun a few other processes more mysterious than their work with the vials, and Galmak watched closely in hopes that he might simply figure out what they were doing when they wouldn't tell him. It was useless though; not only were their backs turned to him most of the time, nothing seemed to be labeled and they only rarely used any herbal ingredients he was familiar with.

It was mostly Var'kan who talked to him during the daytime when he was awake. Teyagah was her usual tight-lipped self, only bothering to throw the occasional taunt or insult at her grandson, but Var'kan was practically garrulous at times. He spoke mainly of the Shadow and seemed almost obsessed with the topic anymore. Galmak thought cynically that perhaps Teyagah _never_ spoke much and Var'kan was actually glad to have someone who responded for a change.

Because he did respond, much to his unease and shame. The undead seemed a bottomless well on the topic of his choice, and Galmak found himself guiltily and warily absorbing all the information he could. Much of it was undoubtedly lies, like their supposed belief that they served the Spirit of the Wilds by opposing it, but it still gave him insight into how they thought. And what wasn't lies was valuable. Even with the runes in place, he could feel the Shadow churning more restlessly than ever in his consciousness, as if it could sense him weakening to it. He could no longer deny that it held an attraction for him, however (paradoxically) repulsive and tentative he might tell himself it was. Then too, the ancestors had known he would follow this path and they'd still given their blessing. He even found himself thinking about what Hyara had told him at Karkun Kamil a few months ago: that she wouldn't let him deny it if denying it would hurt him. Those were merely excuses though, he tried to tell himself sternly. He didn't know that it would hurt him; he had only Var'kan's word that it would. _Mother, why did you let me leave without telling me these things?_

One evening Var'kan began a new activity. Galmak frowned, craning his neck in an attempt to recognize what was going on, and finally caught a glimpse of the focus of the undead's attention: he'd withdrawn several smooth white stones from a wooden box. The stones were about the size of a peach pit, flattened on top, and roughly round. Var'kan was muttering over them now instead of the vials.

"What are those for?" Galmak asked, no longer the least bit shy about asking questions.

"These will be runestones," the undead answered without hesitation. He passed the handful of stones to Teyagah, who arranged them carefully before her. Her lips began moving silently and her long fingers danced in intricate, tiny gestures over the surface of the stones. Galmak felt the sharp flicker of Shadow spring up where her fingers touched the stones.

"Teyagah is far more skilled at runes than I," Var'kan said with what Galmak could only interpret as a fond grin at his mate. "I have gotten in the habit of preparing them and letting her do the fine-tuning. You may discover shortly what we will use them for."

Not for the vials; he'd already guessed that. They had all the charged runestones they were going to get out of him, whether they knew it or not.

He didn't have to wonder for much longer; they soon presented him with a new puzzle. Teyagah finished her chanting and swept the stones off the workbench, then crossed the room and placed one carefully atop one of the larger, black runestones that kept Galmak's magic in check. She walked around the room and placed four more stones in the same way. Before she returned to her other work, she shot one satisfied, mocking smile at her grandson. Galmak stared in puzzlement at the new white pebbles gleaming along the room's walls. The black stones held runes that had worked on him for days now. The white stones also held runes, and now they'd been added to the first…

"You've modified the runes somehow to make them do something different," he concluded.

"Very good, young brother!" Var'kan praised, seeming genuinely pleased.

He was going to pursue the matter further when a hunch suddenly warned him not to. What was different? Uneasily, he cast another glance at the runes and settled back against the wall. Only another moment more, during which he sat in tense silence and hoped the undead wouldn't bother him, and he recognized a tiny but growing difference in the room. A feeling was beginning to creep gradually into his mind, and then he noticed it slowly soaking downward to the rest of his body. He was hard-pressed even to describe it to himself, but it felt like… it felt like greater freedom. The Shadow tugged at him with more insistence, more akin to the way it had before he'd come under the influence of the dampening runes, but now it was far stronger. What were they doing to him?

Some of his anger and fear must have manifested in outward signs despite his careful control, or perhaps Var'kan had only anticipated the inevitable. "Are you feeling alright, young brother?" he asked congenially.

"Fine," Galmak said through clenched teeth.

"What do you feel?" the undead demanded. His stare was like a spear pinning the young orc to the wall. Galmak knew his discomfort wouldn't escape that one sharp amber eye. Teyagah hadn't turned from her work, but she laughed softly.

"What did you do to me?" Galmak countered, trying to keep his voice even and unlabored.

Var'kan smiled his disconcerting smile. "We have done nothing to you directly. Those runes have merely removed some of the restrictions we placed on your magic. Is there something you haven't told us? Can it be that your 'shamanistic magics' have grown harder to control since we began our conversations on the Shadow?"

Galmak didn't rise to the mockery in his tone; he was too busy considering that. He'd been learning about the Shadow, had been observing and feeling the use of dark energies for days now. He'd obviously been opening himself to it, both consciously and unconsciously. He'd been allowing himself to consider the possibility of embracing it, just so he could get a handle on it and learn to control it. Could it be that he'd _already_ allowed himself to embrace it in the past few days without even realizing, and would have noticed it much sooner if not for the runes? Even now he could feel it flowing stronger than ever through his mind and body. It was liberating; exhilarating, even…

_No_, he couldn't allow that. Desperately he tried to choke it off, to dam it back to the level it had been with the runes untouched. It was like trying to keep water in a sieve. The Shadow whispered far more loudly in his mind now, like the sound of a gale outside thin walls. He felt the almost overwhelming urge to force it into his hands, to let fly another bolt like the one that had blasted Lahgga off his four paws. But Var'kan had said the runes still bound him, and he couldn't let them see that they'd been right about him, or what would they use him for then? There still might be some other chance, he told himself desperately. Galmak closed his eyes, ignoring Var'kan's continued stare, and rested his head against the cool stone wall.

"The spirits still speak to me," he said stubbornly, determined to hold doggedly to that line for as long as he could.

Across the room, Teyagah's eyes widened in disbelief and her face hardened in anger. She shared a look with Var'kan, who shrugged almost resignedly, and then she closed her hand around the vial at her neck.

"You force our hand, whelp," she hissed.

Galmak opened his eyes in alarm as he felt the chill again. There was a faint suck and whine of air into the room as a nebulous blue mist slowly congealed. It happened a little faster this time; maybe the shade had been nearer when Teyagah's call had gone out. The shifting, faint figure of a draenei man emerged from the air and stood looking down with an expectant, dark frown at the orc woman. His head twisted in a slow, blurred motion to take in Var'kan as well, and then abruptly his eyes came to rest on Galmak, sitting bound against the wall. An odd change came over the pale, wavering face then, as if a light had been allowed, for only an instant, to burn brighter.

"We know you," the voice rumbled distantly. Galmak stared incredulously and in another heartbeat the moment had passed. Darkness covered the face again and the shade's attention was once more on Teyagah.

She didn't allow her eyes to flicker away, but there was more anger there now than there had been before. "You will search harder," she said tightly. "You will find her within a day and this time you won't fail. Do I need to remind you of the consequences if you continue to displease us?"

"No," the man spoke in a voice heavy with hatred. Another gesture from the undead and he was gone with a bitter whisper and a sigh of air.

Galmak stilled the inaudible growl of desperation and fear that had started unconsciously in the back of his throat. He had no way to warn Hyara. It was evening now and the cave waited in silence below the village for its usual pilgrim to make her appearance before sunrise.

* * *


	31. III: Together Again

* * *

The embers of their little fire had nearly burned out by the time Hyara woke in the early morning. Gently she nudged Gink, asleep at her side, and grabbed a little breakfast before they crept off through the underbrush in their usual path toward the west side of the village.

Olkhor still hadn't woken yet, nor had Chu'thog, which she was glad for. Somehow she wondered if they might have tried to stop her from going off this morning in light of the conversation they'd had last night.

They were at an impasse. No one had any good ideas that seemed unlikely to get the bunch of them killed, and Hyara had only half-seriously suggested that they try something new; namely, that she'd go in and get herself captured on purpose. Olkhor had been tremendously unamused by that idea and had immediately suggested that if they were going to do something so ogre-brained, he might as well be the one to get captured.

"They were on the verge of killing you outright last time," she'd reminded him. "I wouldn't doubt they'd do it this time if you showed up there, especially since Jas'ka can testify that you've already been nothing but trouble."

"Then what makes you so damn sure they wouldn't just go ahead and kill you?" he'd snarled angrily.

"Because they haven't killed Galmak. They still want something from him, whether it's more of the same or something different, and I'm quite sure they still want something from me. Otherwise, they could have just told Jas'ka to off me in my sleep at the caravan once Galmak was gone." She had a fair guess about what they wanted from her if it wasn't more of her blood; she was Teyagah's escaped trophy. A woman of such monstrous pride wouldn't allow that to simply fade from importance.

"I hate it," Olkhor had spat when she'd barely finished. "It's stupid, it's dangerous, and you're not doing it. It would get you killed for sure." He made no mention of the "whelps," which she found touching. Maybe he really had grown to care about her as an individual, aside from the role he saw for her in the rebirth of his clan.

In the end, Chu'thog had threatened to tie her to Olkhor's wolf and send her trotting off toward the ogre village unless she promised in all earnestness not to get herself captured on purpose. She'd agreed with a sigh and a rueful shake of her head; it hadn't been much of a serious suggestion in the first place, merely a desperate and silly one. This morning it seemed even worse, but she couldn't deny the wearing effect it was having on her, being away from Galmak and in constant fear for his safety.

As they came within sight of the breached wall, both she and her cat paused and made a careful scan of the surrounding forest. There were no signs of anyone about, either living or dead. The pre-dawn held its usual tense, anticipatory silence with only lazy puffs of chill breeze disturbing the leaves above. They continued cautiously toward the village, then stepped in silence through the usual chunk of missing wall near the cliff.

It was only once they were inside that Hyara realized the shades flitting around the village were not as numerous as usual. With an intake of breath she glanced reflexively at Gink. He was crouched at the corner of a building, fur bristling slightly as he peered out toward the main courtyard.

_Where are they all?_ she asked and got only a mental shake of the head from her cat.

Then she felt the missing shades. They were out in the forest to the northwest, very near the wall now, and approaching almost from the direction she'd just traveled. She hissed a curse under her breath and darted quickly for the cave entrance. Gink slipped in after her and she rearranged the trailing vines from the inside, covering the small hole they'd made.

Galmak had been on the fitful, tattered edge of sleep when they'd arrived in the ruins, but she felt him waking fully now and immediately bursting with distress. She tried to soothe him as she descended the stairs in utter blackness and silence, fearful of any small noise from the entrance above her. Gink guided her patiently and carefully though, and eventually the cavern's glow gave welcome relief to her strained and ragged senses. They'd made it down without being seen.

She settled as usual on the floor with Gink guarding the entrance, but this time she couldn't close her eyes and relax. The shades were prowling somewhere above; obviously their behavior had changed in some way since last night. But there was also another feeling that kept her from relaxing into meditation. At first she couldn't quite pinpoint it, but then she realized that her usual Light-induced headache was not as severe today. The Light was strong as ever around her, pulsing and singing silently between the crystals, but there was something else… Something from above was veiling it slightly in her mind and soothing the pain. With a shock that made her gasp audibly, she realized it was the bond. Galmak's sense hummed with energy she hadn't felt so intensely from him since…

Since that day in the meetinghouse at Karkun Kamil. In the village, hundreds of paces above her, Galmak was somehow using the Shadow with greater power than she'd ever felt before.

She licked her lips and pressed a hand to her forehead, realizing that her face was flushed. That feeling was intoxicating. It was arousing. She remembered how it had felt to stand very near him in the room when he'd held that dark shield around him, how she'd felt so disturbingly, irresistibly attracted to him and the power he'd wielded, as if the darker elements of her own body needed with all their might to be near him. Gink slipped over to her side, sensing his mistress's odd and confused feelings. She gripped his fur and drew a deep breath of the Light-drenched air, but the bond continued to throb just as strongly with Galmak's power.

A moment later she realized with a shock that she was standing and had taken several hesitant steps in the direction of the stair, as if magnetically drawn to the source of the Shadow.

_Steady_, Gink said firmly into her mind. He didn't understand what was going on, but he'd learned to recognize the unique pattern of feelings the bond set up in her mind and he could tell when it was the source of happiness or distress.

His ears flicked then; had he heard a noise? Barely even a noise, more of a vibration. Maybe it had only been the usual sound of the wind from above. But nevertheless, he pressed his nose firmly against Hyara's leg, telling her to stay where she was, and faded without even a shimmer of air in the diffuse light.

Hyara took a silent breath and inwardly shook herself in anger. _No_, she had to try… had to tune that out… it was so hard…

Her conscious mind was addled, but the hunter's senses she'd spent so many years training still did their job without her explicit direction. In horror, she realized abruptly that there was a shade somewhere above her. What's more, it was on the stone stair and moving downward steadily.

_Hide_, Gink commanded urgently as his ghostly, invisible form slipped back into the cavern. It woke her like cold water over her head and she looked frantically around the chamber. The radiance of the crystals soaked every corner; there were no shadows but her own. Only the crystals themselves could conceal her. Walking with careful, silent steps on the stone floor, she moved to the very back of the cavern and chose a thick blue spire to hide behind. Her shadow fell grey and fuzzy on the cave wall behind her. She could only pray that the crystal would block that from view as well.

For several moments, the cavern remained empty save for Gink's ghostly body pressed tightly against the wall near the stair. She could feel the shade continuing its downward journey, however. Its presence moved slowly, but far more easily and steadily than anyone living could have in that inky blackness full of broken stone and slippery, worn steps. From above her, the bond stroked caressing fingers through her mind and pulled at her body. From somewhere ahead and growing nearer, bitterness and death assaulted her senses. She feared she might scream, her attention torn and twisted between the two, if not for Gink's purr of calm and reassurance into her mind from yet a third direction.

Then at last, as she peeked a single eye carefully from behind a bunched cluster of crystals, the Light and the air wavered at the mouth of the steps. The blue mist of a man's form hazed the glittering stone walls as he glided soundlessly into the chamber. His head swung slowly from right to left and his cold eyes absorbed the cave, then he turned full around and stared for a few seconds at the spot where Gink crouched in invisibility. Hyara's eyes widened in fear and she felt her cat give a shudder.

The man walked in that smooth, gliding gait to stand at the spot where she'd been sitting on the floor only moments ago. A smile twisted his face and she watched in paralyzed horror as his hands reached out to trace the air in front of him, cupping the air as if around some round object, and then slowly they traced an invisible contour downward. Almost caressingly his ephemeral hands rested for a moment where her shoulders had been and then slid downward again. He straightened and slipped suddenly between the crystals. Hyara pressed back against the wall and could only watch in mute terror as the shade approached her with ice-cold eyes that saw straight through her meager shelter to the warm, living body behind. He stood in front of her, staring, and she could do nothing but stare back.

"A daughter of Argus has returned to this place," he said, and there was a hollow mockery in his voice.

Then there was a flurry of fur and a snarl, and Gink sprang. Hyara dropped to the floor out of reflex to shield herself from the flashing claws and teeth that cut through the air in front of her. Her cat landed just to her side, roaring with rage, but his jaws had come up empty. The air swirled wildly in a blue mist where the shade had been, and as they watched in consternation, it began to congeal once more into the man's form. His face held an icy rage and he extended a hand toward Gink. The cat readied himself for another spring, futile though it seemed, but just as his paws left the floor a bluish-white pulse burst toward him from the shade's extended hand. Gink was caught head-on and hurtled sideways across the chamber through the crystalline forest. The musical tinkle of shattered crystal echoed as the cat's bulky body broke some of the more fragile growths and then he fetched up against the far wall with a crack and a thud.

The shade forgotten for the moment, Hyara scrambled frantically through the broken shards and dropped to the floor by her cat's still body.

"Gink," she sobbed aloud and pressed her fingers gently to the big artery in his leg. His pulse fluttered weakly. There were ribs broken, a gash bleeding badly on his head where a crystal must have sliced him, and undoubtedly damage she hadn't the skill to see. She rested her face lightly against his belly and whispered her hunter's healing into him, begging his body to recover, but he didn't twitch. She sat up, staring at the glittering wall with a tear-streaked face, and then it was as if the Light told her what to do. She summoned up her Gift of the Naaru, channeling every bit of the Light she could feel around her, and felt it answer her with impossible strength, far more strongly than it ever had before. She let it flow into Gink's broken, still body. For a moment they both soaked in the gold glow that paled even the crystals around them. Neither one of them moved and Hyara had utterly forgotten the shade. Her headache pounded like dull fire and even the bond with Galmak had temporarily shuffled backward in her consciousness.

_I can't lose you_, she begged. _Please, Gink_…

The Light faded to the chamber's usual serene ambience. Still Gink didn't move, but she realized with a rush of gratitude that his pulse was stronger and his breathing was steady. He was asleep. She didn't want to prod him too hard, but it seemed that at least one of his ribs had knit. _Oh Light, thank you_.

A soft sigh of air behind her jerked her back to the reality of the shade. She stood slowly and turned, keeping her own body protectively in front of Gink. He had made her tragically aware of how futile physical attacks were against this being, but she would at least stand her ground.

"I am to bring you in," he spoke again in that hollow, cold voice, utterly ignoring the cat's body and the destruction he had caused in the cavern.

"Then bring me in," she said in a voice shaking with fear but defiant nonetheless. But the bond was again tugging at her mind, asserting itself through the relief she felt at Gink's improved condition, and she was astonished to hear undertones of eagerness in her statement. _Bring me in? I don't really want that, no_…

The shade examined her with dead blue eyes. "You wield the Light," he said flatly and she nodded slowly in puzzlement, not sure what to make of that. "As all of us once wielded the Light… of the naaru. As all things… live… in the…" He trailed to a halt and now it seemed he was the one faintly confused. His eyes snapped back up to her face with a blurred motion and the confusion vanished. "Come."

He extended a hand as he had before and she flinched away in alarm, but instead of the violent force she'd seen used against Gink, she felt an insistent tug at her back like an icy hand wrapped around her spine and squeezing almost to the point of pain. She shuddered and shuffled reluctantly forward through the shattered crystal spines to the stair. As the shade pushed her upward, she cast a backward look at her cat still lying insensate on the cavern floor and prayed that he could recover fully.

* * *

Something had happened in the cavern and Galmak feared the worst. First the odd confusion, then even more strangely, some of the feelings he normally only sensed in her in their most intimate moments, followed by fear and extreme distress. He wanted to leap up and force his way out of the room; all he could settle for was shifting restlessly on the floor while trying not to draw attention from Var'kan and Teyagah.

An excruciatingly long time passed from when he'd first sensed Hyara entering the ruins to when he finally learned what had occurred. There was a tap on the door, Teyagah gave a perfunctory command to enter, and Jas'ka's tusks preceded the rest of his head through the cracked door.

"Got a visitor," he said with a crocolisk's smile.

He pushed the door open the rest of the way and Galmak's fears were confirmed. His fears only got worse, however, as he took a closer look at his mate.

Something was clearly wrong. Hyara stumbled several paces into the room, even though Jas'ka was only holding her by a wrist and had barely given her a tug to bring her inside. Sweat glistened on her face and her breath came in shallow pants. Her sliver-blue eyes were heavily lidded and unfocused, darting around the room unseeingly. She seemed wholly unaware of her surroundings and it wasn't until Var'kan spoke that she even acknowledged anyone in the room enough to turn her head vaguely in his direction.

"Well done," Var'kan said in a voice rich with delight. "Where did you find her?"

Jas'ka shifted and his eyes narrowed. "Found 'er… in da village. Outside."

"You lie, Vilebranch," Teyagah laughed. "My shades found her, didn't they? Out, now! You are still in disfavor. Find some other way to repair your favor, besides telling us transparent lies!"

The troll's face soured and he scraped a bow before skulking back out the door. Galmak, still hindered by his bindings, had meanwhile been sitting very still against the wall, all the while sorting carefully through the bond to try to identify the twisted and jumbled feelings. His instinct urged caution, although he wanted more than anything to rip the gold bands off and gather her in his arms. What he felt through the bond was almost like a flood. Colors, darkness, bursts of emotion, and under it all something he'd never glimpsed that chilled his blood. His dread didn't want to acknowledge it, but some instinct he hadn't known he possessed recognized the truth: he was feeling, for the first time, the demon in her. It was only a fragment and a torn scrap of her being, but it was there and for some reason it wanted out right now. He squeezed his eyes shut in tortured worry for a second before once again facing the reality in front of him. Somehow he was the cause of this change.

"What's wrong with her?" Var'kan said in a rare moment of undisguised puzzlement. Hyara's eyes had fallen shut now and she didn't even twitch at his voice.

"Hyara, love," Galmak said softly. His voice trembled slightly with fear.

He instinctively realized his mistake in a flash as soon as the words had crossed his lips, but even he would later admit that he couldn't have been expected to understand beforehand. At the sound of his voice, he caught the abrupt, agonizing feel of a battle lost within her. She took a great, shuddering breath that sounded almost like a gasp and her eyes flew open in sudden focus. She stared at him for the space of a few seconds and then she dropped to the ground and fell on him with a groan, her lips seeking his hungrily and her fingers twining through his hair.

For a moment he was too stunned even to comprehend what she was doing. Her hands were pulling at his clothing and oh gods, she was trying to undress him. He grappled for her wrists and managed to catch one of them with his bound hands, holding her back briefly, but she jerked away and went to work on her own clothing.

"Hyara! Hyara, stop," he said frantically, but she didn't seem to hear him. She'd gotten her leather tunic off and had unraveled the lacing on her shirt before he was finally able to catch both of her wrists. He pulled her close, only inches from his face, and at last her eyes met his with what he prayed was some measure of clarity.

"Love, no," he whispered. Gods, her scent… how he'd missed it over the past week. Her skin was flushed with heat and so soft, so enticingly blushed with passion. Her tail lashed in the way he knew well that told him what she wanted from him. The bond purred with new energy between them like the whisper of silk on skin and gave the promise of pleasure more intense than they'd ever known before. She licked her lips and let out a low moan, then pressed her lips against his again. He couldn't deny that kiss. She wanted him so badly. He'd wanted her for what felt like forever now, both of them waiting and agonizing in their own different prisons with nothing to be done, in constant fear for each other. It would be so easy to let her have what she wanted because he wanted it too. This passion was intoxicating and how could it be wrong between them, no matter the circumstances, no matter that his hold on the bond had somehow provoked this reaction in her…

Her hands worked their way under his tunic and stroked at his chest, caressed downward, hooked beneath his waistband, fumbled at the laces of his pants. With the feeling that he was moving an enormous boulder, Galmak turned his head and stared pleadingly at Var'kan, then Teyagah. One of them had to bring deliverance from this.

"Please, the white runes. Take them away again."

Var'kan had the look of a man beside himself with glee; Teyagah's eyes flashed with rage. Var'kan nodded very slowly and flicked a hand. Teyagah walked to a corner and stood staring down at the stones for what seemed like an excruciating eternity, then kicked savagely and sent the small, white stone skittering against the wall. She stalked around the room with the air of a barely leashed tiger, and as she progressed, Galmak began to feel as if something inside him were choking. He took deep breaths between Hyara's kisses and slowly the Shadow, only minutes ago flowing through him so freely, dulled to the muffled roar of an underground river. It was once more beyond his reach.

Hyara's movements had slowly grown less frantic, and as the last white runestone was kicked away, she took a deep, shuddering breath and let it out in a moan. Her eyes closed and Galmak cradled her as she slumped over to his side on the floor. He pressed his forehead against her cheek and closed his eyes. _Oh love, I'm so sorry._

"You deceived us, whelp," Teyagah snarled.

* * *


	32. III: Outted

* * *

A/N: If you'd be sad to see this stop updating, please review. : /

* * *

"I suppose you'll agree there is no point in denying your true abilities now," Var'kan said quietly. His grin was anything but quiet, though; it held wicked triumph and elation. "And no point in denying who holds the eredar's bond. Furthermore… I no longer see how you can refuse our help, since the mere act of replacing our runes sends your mate into heat." He stumped over with his triumphant single eye locked on Galmak's and then he bent down and drew his fingers across the gold band at the young orc's wrist. The band snapped off and Galmak wrapped his arms immediately around Hyara, shifting her into a better position. Her skin was still flushed but she was fading rapidly to her usual pale blue. Her breathing was regular and she looked merely asleep. She seemed alright now. Galmak could only pray to every god he knew that the twins were alright as well.

Hyara took a sudden, deeper breath and her eyes fluttered open. She tried to sit up, but he held her down in his lap. Glowing eyes flicked around the chamber and then came to rest on his face where her expression remained blank for a few seconds, and then he saw the horror of memory seep in.

"Oh gods," she moaned in a whisper. "What did I do?"

"You didn't do anything, love. It was my fault." Guilt pounded in his head almost as strongly as the Shadow had only moments before. Neither one of them had been prepared for his powers fully awakened and relatively unrestrained, but it was no excuse for him and he couldn't possibly excuse himself. He should have realized what it could do; he should have foreseen harder consequences for their bond even from the beginning. He should have been begging Var'kan and Teyagah for their help.

"I anticipate no need to trouble with torturing her now," Var'kan spoke again, "since surely you see what will happen if you don't control the power you seized. It has awoken in you fully, young brother. There is no going back."

"Yes," Galmak snarled in response with his arms wrapped protectively around Hyara. "I see it. I'll accept your… _help_ because I don't have any choice. But stay away from her. She doesn't have anything to do with you now."

"Agreeable, for now," Var'kan nodded with maddening geniality.

Teyagah had meanwhile been staring at the two of them with malicious fury frozen on her face. At Var'kan's words she hissed and brought a fist slamming down on the worktable.

"He played me for a fool and made me think my daughter had taken my slave," she scowled. "I want her back."

"Perhaps in due course," Var'kan said with a placating air, but his face wore a faint frown. "He has need of her now, I think, as a gauge of his powers, and she will serve us in that way too. The less he tries, the more she will suffer and we will know it. She will serve as evidence of his earnestness. Really, my dear, this has played out far better than we'd hoped for."

Teyagah was clearly unsatisfied and still fuming, but she finally gave a sharp nod of assent and Var'kan chuckled with gleeful satisfaction as his good eye swiveled back to Galmak.

"We will begin your training at once. First, however, you and your mate will need a more permanent place to stay. I imagine you don't wish to continue spending your nights on our floor?"

It wasn't a real question and Galmak didn't bother answering. Var'kan hobbled his way to the door, opened it, and called for one of the two goons outside. Lahgga's giant bulk appeared a few seconds later.

"The small unruined room off the main chamber… put up a curtain and find some blankets. Our guests will be moving in there." The undead dismissed him with a wave and then glanced Teyagah's direction. She pushed sullenly out the door past the tauren and they both disappeared down the hall.

"She will see to the repositioning of some of our confining runes outside, young brother, so don't raise your hopes falsely. You will still be carefully monitored; that room is thick stone like the rest of this building and has only the one door into the main chamber."

"And how will I know the extent of what I can do if you keep my powers under lock and key all the time?" the young orc asked with a glare. He didn't expect a real answer to that question either.

"We will know anyway, very likely, and you don't need to know," Var'kan answered with another grin. "You are well aware that you are here under our terms."

* * *

Their room was a mere cubby, barely longer than Hyara's height; even she couldn't guess what it might have been used for when the building had been the village's meeting hall. Lahgga draped another of the thick, black cloths across the narrow doorway and then pushed around the contents of a wooden crate for a moment before producing a cracked oil lantern. He lit the wick and handed it silently to Galmak. Jas'ka watched the proceedings with bored eyes from a corner, bone pipe clamped in his mouth and a dagger snicking in a steady rhythm down the length of a thin olemba branch. Bark and wood shavings curled to the floor where he pushed them periodically into a neat pile. Hyara watched the troll covertly as Lahgga hung the curtain and was grateful for the vague remembrance that he hadn't been a party to the tableau in the back room.

With the curtain hung and the lamp lit, the tauren tossed a little breakfast their way and pointed with a grunt to the room. His meaning was clear; their prison was ready to accommodate them. Galmak held the curtain aside and then slipped in after Hyara. She brushed aside the dust of chipped stones and long years and sat in one curved corner with her knees hugged under her chin. She felt very small and at this moment she wanted to look it also.

The silence pooled around them like water at the bottom of a well. After a minute Galmak realized he was still holding the lantern and his fidgeting hands were sending his shadow leaping across the claustrophobic walls. He set it down hastily, the scrape of metal on stone sounding loud in the muffled little space.

"None of it was your fault," he said finally. His voice sounded hoarse and rough in his ears.

"I know," she said softly, to his surprise. "I know that feeling and it wasn't my fault."

His impulse was to scowl down at her. She didn't make any sense and he didn't like the sound of what she said. Couldn't she forgive him? Didn't she realize he hadn't had any control either? They'd both been tossed around by something neither of them had been prepared for. It took a moment for the upsurge of guilt and self-pity to subside so he could see beyond to what she was really saying. And he felt even greater disgust when he realized it: she wasn't only dealing with the past hour. She must also be dealing with something else she'd only alluded to for the first time a mere few weeks ago.

He sat down beside her, careful not even to brush against her, much though he wanted to take her in his arms again. She shivered a sigh very softly and hugged her knees tighter.

"It wasn't your fault," he repeated.

"But does it matter?" she countered. "I still did it and I remember. I wanted to at the time. Lots of people are sorry afterward for things they do, but it doesn't fix anything."

"Doesn't it? I'm sorry now. You have no idea how sorry I am. Are you telling me that doesn't matter?"

"I think I have some idea." The smile was faint but he felt the trace of her inner glow to accompany it. "Don't be sorry. I know it wasn't your fault either. I know you would never… I just… I just can't seem to let it go." Her whisper was barely audible now, her eyes staring sightlessly at the drape in the doorway.

She wasn't talking about the recent past anymore and they both knew it. Galmak struggled inwardly, uncertain what else he could say. Whatever had happened, it hadn't been her fault but she still felt the guilt of it. It made him terribly angry and half of him wanted to hear every detail and turn his rage into something that could torment and _kill_ on her behalf. It didn't matter that the object of his rage might be dead even now; he felt the desire for revenge more strongly in this moment than he'd felt since years before when he'd stared out from between the bars of that cage, watching… The Shadow roiled, contained and sullen, in the corners of his mind and he took a deep breath.

Then there was the other half of him, the half that just wished for the power to wash her mind clear and clean like Shattrath's stones in the autumn rains. He'd thought maybe they were well on the road to doing that, and maybe they still were, but it made him realize all over again just how little they'd ever really talked about that time in the intervening years in hopes that it would all fade and wash away. Maybe that had been a mistake.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said, reading the direction of his thoughts, "but this made me think of it again. I felt like a traitor. I didn't see how you could ever love me if you knew."

His voice rumbled softly in reply, "I'm not being melodramatic when I say I'd rather die a thousand times than ever do anything to make you compare me to _him_ in any way."

She rested her forehead on her knees and felt warm tears soaking through her woolen leggings. "I didn't want that… I didn't mean to. I couldn't avoid it, love, I knew that feeling. It didn't matter that I never _would_ compare you to him, it was just the same feeling."

"And now you won't let yourself rest because I've dragged it all back to the surface again and betrayed your trust. I did what I promised, you and myself, I would never, ever do."

Her luminous, tear-glassed eyes at last turned toward him and he flicked his own brown ones in her direction, but his look wavered and fell. "Galmak," she said softly, and the way she said it sent a shiver of longing down his spine. "It wasn't your fault either. I swear on the Light I know that and I believe it. I only want you to understand… I think it was a mistake I never told you."

"I thought… I thought you didn't want to talk about it."

"I don't want to talk about it. But I think I should. I think maybe… it might help me remember how very different it was from this time. And help me see that you'll still love me anyway."

And so she told him. Her voice was quiet but she spoke firmly, determined that she wouldn't shy from it now her decision was made. She spoke for the first time in years of their months in the Winterspring fortress, not in generalities and vague references, but specifics and details. For the first time since they'd left the place she used Sarzuun's name and told of how he'd taken over her mind and wiped it clean of all thought, leaving only her animal desires behind to control her and bring her willingly into his bed. Galmak listened with weary grief, the anger of several minutes ago turned to something heavier and harder to swallow.

"He knew what he was doing." She breathed calmly now, the silent, choking tears gone from her voice. "He wanted to hurt me. He thought it would break me to make me do it willingly and then let me remember."

Galmak couldn't answer just yet, but he scooted closer to her across the dusty floor. She leaned into the crook of his arm and let her head fall to rest on his shoulder.

"It didn't break you," he finally said, and she heard pride and a smile in his voice.

"It was all different. This was only a pale reminder. I'm so sorry, love, I don't want you to think… there's no comparison at all."

"Hyara, I'll do my best to never let it be this way again," he promised, turning to face her and gripping her arms gently. His eyes held hers earnestly, searching her face and her sense for the forgiveness and understanding he craved. He found them in her smile, but there was sadness too.

"It'll cost you, love," she said. "You won't have those runes forever."

_I might, at this rate_. But he didn't say it aloud, instead leaning close and kissing her tenderly. "I was stupid to believe I could escape it forever, and now it's caused this. It might even be better this way; all that power might have finally caught up to me someplace where I couldn't get any help with it."

Hyara grimaced, trying not to imagine what would have happened if their recent scene had played out in the middle of Karkun Kamil. No restraining runes to fall back on, no warlocks around to help. It was hard to think of Var'kan's and Teyagah's presence as a boon, but maybe it was true in this case.

"I'll learn what I can," he continued, "and above all, I'll learn to control it and not let it control me. Or you."

She sighed, laying her head in his lap, and he felt genuine contentment well up in her. Their love radiated between them and seemed to fill the tiny space. It was a spell he didn't want to shatter, but he had to ask the question nagging at him.

"Hyara… do you feel alright? The twins…?"

Her stomach twinged with worry, but she nodded and placed a hand on her belly, which had grown a little even since she'd last seen her mate. Since she'd come to herself in the back room, her mind had leapt frantically with the worry that she'd somehow harmed her babies and her body had been alert for any signs of it. She'd so far felt none of the dreaded things Kereth had told her to watch for.

"Everything seems alright," she tried to reassure him, although she couldn't be sure herself. Time would tell; or Remta, if they ever made it out of here. In the meanwhile, she'd have to trust her own body and instincts. "You know what isn't alright, though," she said, and Galmak looked down at her with concern although he felt a wry amusement tugging at her sense. "Olkhor is going to kill me for getting myself caught."

He chuckled ruefully. "Well, it's not as if you meant to."

"No, but he won't believe it. I just suggested last night that I get caught on purpose to try to force a confrontation. He told me I was an idiot."

"You were," Galmak growled. "And you _didn't_ get caught on purpose, did you?"

"No," she insisted, turning her head upward on his lap, poking his leg with a horn and pulling a face at him. "A shade found me in the cave. He hurt Gink badly. Oh gods, I hope he's alright." She felt a stab of guilt for not thinking sooner of her cat in all the mess that had followed. She could feel his presence faintly, somewhere behind and below, but she could tell little about his state beyond that he must still be asleep. "It was so strange afterward, the shade–"

The stomp of a hoof sounded from outside the curtain, followed by an awkward clearing of the throat. "Out," Lahgga's muffled voice called. "I'm pulling the curtain in ten."

Galmak's eyes narrowed in annoyance. Hyara lifted her head hastily from his lap and they both stood inside their little cell. True to his word, the tauren drew the curtain aside after a slow count of ten seconds and motioned them outside.

"Quiet dis time," Jas'ka said with a nasty grin. Hyara only glanced at him, refusing to understand what he meant, and saw that he'd begun some sort of carving on the stripped olemba bough.

"They want you again, both of you," Lahgga said and herded them down the hallway.

Var'kan looked up from his work as the door opened. Teyagah was nowhere in evidence, perhaps still out in the village. Galmak glanced uneasily at the room's walls, but of course the runes were as he'd last seen them. The larger black stones stood alone, unmodified, and still muffling the scream of the Shadow in his mind.

"Ah, young brother," the undead said and pulled a far more ominous version of Jas'ka's grin. "I trust you've had time to sate your mate's needs."

Hyara's face burned with anger and shame; Galmak's scowl deepened. "What's she doing here, anyway? You promised to leave her alone."

"But not alone with those two out there," Var'kan said wickedly. He laughed at Galmak's expression. "I am only goading you. You should have learned by now. All else aside, though, we have promised to leave her alone for now and we will. She is only here as a barometer for your efforts. She will sit quietly and lend you her support as we train you."

The undead hobbled across the room and bent at a wooden crate, retrieved several pillows and a thick woolen blanket, and tossed them to the floor. "You may use those here and take them with you back to your room. Hyara, my dear, please make yourself comfortable somewhere away from your mate."

With a sigh and an inner curse at the undead, she obeyed. Galmak remained standing in the center of the room, and she could tell from his stance that he was sizing up the situation, gauging the odds of a successful attack. She pushed caution through the bond, but he must have already come to the same conclusion that it would be as ill-fated as his last attempt. His body relaxed and he crossed his arms to wait silently for Var'kan to finish his work.

Var'kan must have sensed the slight tension and relaxation in the air behind him. He replaced a tiny box of odd, shimmering greenish powder on the table and turned to face his young clansman. "I know you are aware of the consequences of going without the runes. Now that you are ready to cooperate…"

With a sudden flick of his hand, the undead threw a pulse of dark, spitting energy outward. It popped with a weak fizzle against Galmak's chest, but it was enough to send the surprised orc staggering backward a few steps. He snarled and his legs bent instantly as if ready to spring.

"That was nothing," Var'kan said with a shrug. "Did you feel the energy as I cast it?"

Galmak's eyes narrowed and he straightened, realizing another attack wouldn't be immediately forthcoming. He thought for a moment. "I felt it very faintly. I suppose it's more that I remember feeling it now."

"Indeed. There is a point in time, just before the casting, where I pull the Shadow in to me and channel it through my body. You will learn to identify that point and anticipate the cast, no matter the strength of the spell. I believe you possess the sensitivity for this, young brother. Not all do, but for those strong enough… you will find there is a window there."

"A… window."

Var'kan grinned. "A window where the energy of the spell is still wild and struggling. A window where the power can be snatched straight from the caster's grip and channeled into the hands of another. I tell you this so you will be wary. You will learn our spells and we will supervise their use, but never think they are entirely your own. Make no foolish moves, young brother."

Galmak grunted his understanding. Obviously they didn't intend to teach him the art of spell-stealing. So they feared him like this, did they, even gimped by the runes? Or were merely being exceptionally cautious – he could hardly blame them after what their overconfidence had cost them last time.

"Alright, maybe you can answer something." He crossed his arms again and frowned at the undead. "How am I going to learn all this with those runes in place? The Shadow's just a… a distant rush right now. There's not much I can do with it." He flexed his mind experimentally, this time consciously inviting in the power he feared. It growled weakly in answer, strangulated by the stones in the room.

"Hmm, yes," Var'kan nodded with his eyes narrowed. His gaze was intent and somehow Galmak could feel himself being watched from the inside out as he fumbled for the suppressed power. It was unnerving and he hastily let it slip away. "A very simple solution," the undead continued. "Runes may be modified endlessly. These– " He thumped his way back a few steps to the table and held up a jagged black pebble between thumb and forefinger. A tiny symbol was barely discernable pulsing with bluish power on the dark surface. " –these will correct our foundational runes and direct some of their suppressive effect toward your mate. These–" He chose another pebble from the table, greyish-white and smooth but irregularly-shaped. " –will continue to direct the suppressing magic to you, to a lesser degree. Combined with the runestones already in place, they will allow you freedom to practice without sending your mate into a frenzy. Your grandmother is exceptionally skilled. You should be grateful for her help in this."

"I never realized how complex runes are," he admitted reluctantly, impressed in spite of himself.

"Oh, yes," Var'kan nodded eagerly. "Extremely so. Teyagah is highly gifted… she was quite a find all those years ago, and my unlife would be far emptier without her. Literally a find." He chuckled macabrely and nodded again to himself. "The humans simply left her to die, you know, after they put several arrows in her stomach. It took quite a long time for her to bleed to death. Luckily, as it happened, since she had only been dead a few minutes by the time I found her. My most perfect creation. I am confident she would have joined us eventually anyway, on her own; her untimely death only speeded the process. But in any case, young brother…"

Galmak felt sick but tried to disguise it behind an impassive face. His mother had of course never been privy to what had happened after her own flight and capture. She had told him the story many times, always assuming – and rightly so – that her mother had died in her defense while she and Lurigk fled. With an inner sigh, Galmak laid those thoughts to rest for now and focused once more on what Var'kan was saying.

Hyara watched them with fear knotting her stomach and the taste of bile rising into her throat. All this was so wrong… her husband should not have to learn from these people. These people taught him not for his own good, but for their own ends. Var'kan cared nothing for either Galmak's self-respect or her own safety. And certainly nothing for their unborn children, were he to learn of them. What did they hope to accomplish with this training?

"How did you enslave my people?" she asked suddenly, cutting across their further conversation of runes and shadow magic.

Var'kan faltered mid-sentence and looked over at her, as startled as if one of the pillows she was sitting on had spoken. Galmak looked down at the floor briefly and then turned a fierce glare on the undead. She could sense a little guilt in him that he'd been caught up in the conversation and it hadn't even occurred to him to press that question himself now that she was there to hear the answer.

The undead sighed and shook his head, clearly annoyed now. "Your people were remiss in getting themselves off to join the Light after death, I'm afraid. Their spirits lingered here instead, we found them, and now we have given them a channel for their rage."

"Rage you caused. Over deaths you caused." Her stare was icy. "I know you were here, and Teyagah too, probably."

"And how could you know that?" His look bordered maddeningly on amused now. "Yet yes, it's true. We were here when they died, like a fair few others of our clan. I am afraid we killed many defenders." His wide smile gave the lie to that last sentiment.

Hyara smiled, a slow, cold smile and her luminous eyes blinked once languidly. "And the villagers? Did you kill many of them?"

Var'kan was on the verge of dismissing her and turning back to Galmak, but her look and her question gave him pause and elicited a frown on his disfigured face. He shifted, his hollow iron cane scraping harshly on the floor. He made a noise of impatience. "They died as well, girl. We killed everyone we found in the village."

She didn't reply immediately, but her secret, satisfied smile widened ever so slightly. Then she said, "Yes. You killed everyone you found."

Understanding dawned on his face at last and she saw rage flicker in his single eye. So many years, literally another lifetime for him, and yet he still couldn't stand the thought of being bested – outsmarted – by his victims. Hyara sat back against the wall, feigning indifference to the rest of the room now, and savored her small victory.

Through the bond, Galmak felt her sorrow although he couldn't see it on her face. The look he sent to his mate went unnoticed as she was still staring determinedly at the wall beside her, but the comfort he brushed through the bond was answered in kind.

Var'kan gazed at her a few seconds longer, but the momentary lapse in control had passed and wiped away any trace of anger. Galmak thought his usual unctuous smile was a little forced, though, as he turned back to resume their conversation.

"Shall we continue, young brother?" he said smoothly and Galmak nodded.

* * *

When Gink finally awoke, his head reeled fuzzily. Strange glowing shapes loomed over him and poured light into his aching eyes. The air was cool with the scent of the earth, the ground was hard like stone. It took him a moment to drag his stiff body upright, but by that time he had remembered where he was and what had brought him to lie broken and sore on the ground.

But he was no longer broken, he realized as he stood. His paws held his legs firm without the sharp, knifing feel of splintered bones or jagged tears in his hide. In the dimness before unconsciousness had overtaken him, he remembered expecting to die. Somehow he wasn't dead, was barely even hurt anymore, but Hyara was gone. He shook his still-woozy head and body with a low growl and forced his mind to reach outward until he found her. Her sense was faint at this distance but she was there, somewhere above and in the direction where he knew her mate was being held. The cat's roar of frustration and anger bounced around the enclosing walls.

His stiff joints loosened as he bounded across the littered floor and padded up the dark stair. The air outside the cave was dank with the scent of late morning beginning to round out toward afternoon, the sky steely in patches of muddy light through the high canopy. Sniffing the air for nearby danger and finding none, he slipped through the tumbled wall. Hyara's feel faded gradually behind as he flashed in a blur of ghostly white through the underbrush.

He found Palla, or rather she found him, returning from the ruined eastern wall. Danger, anger, and pain lanced from his mind to hers. She smelled the scent of battle and defeat on him and felt the pain of his mistress lost. In return, she told him of the frantic, bitter orc ahead of them who paced impotently around the camp and the ogre who had barely managed to restrain his rash fury. They slid out of the brush together near the dozing riding wolves.

Olkhor looked up at the rustle of leaves, not really caring anymore if he'd been discovered or not. It was only the wolf and the cat, though, and the damned cat had returned without the hunter.

"Thought you were supposed to keep an eye on her," he said accusingly, not knowing if the animal could even understand him.

"Sometimes an eye not enough," Chu'thog said. He was sitting on a huge log nearby, digging absentmindedly at the ground with a stick. "Hunter animals good companions, but when hunter does something dumb…"

Gink growled at the both of them and swung his head side to side. It was a ridiculous gesture on a cat, but it was easy enough to pick up and he'd found it to be occasionally useful around two-legs he couldn't communicate with. No use as far as the details went, though.

"Well, that about does it." Olkhor halted his pacing and stood glaring through the trees toward the ruins, huge fists clenched at his side. "You told me to wait to see if she'd still come back today. Now the cat's back and it's damned clear she's not following. What now, meathead?" He rounded on the ogre.

Chu'thog looked up, surprised. "You ask Chu'thog for advice?"

"No, I'm finding out if you have a real idea in that skull of yours before I start in on my idea!"

"Your idea dumb," Chu'thog shrugged, drawing a growl from the orc. "Your idea go like this: run in all crazy, get caught by shades. Get taken to bad undead, then die with something pointy in our ribs, or maybe die with magic burning our brains out. Dumb idea, see?"

"Brains?" Olkhor roared. "Brains don't come into it for you!"

"Then we about equal. We come up with something brainless but maybe will work without making us dead, okay?"

Gink would have flopped over in exasperation if he hadn't been so invested in the outcome of their argument. Palla's anger reeked in his nostrils and he felt the push and pulse of her frustration in the air around her.

"What are you still doing here, anyway?" the orc spat. "You must have figured out by now we won't be taking care of that whole problem with only two of us. Why don't you go back to your village and pick your nose?"

Chu'thog fixed Olkhor in a frowning gaze and was silent for a moment. "I not leave," he finally said. "That called 'dishonor' in my tribe, giving up when something gets harder and people need you."

Olkhor snorted, but he seemed very slightly chastened. He took a whistling breath around his tusks and stomped his way back along his pacing track. "Fine," he said in a quieter tone. "They're both in there together now. Guess they're both still alive or their animals'd be flipping their shit right now. Got that damn troll and the tauren to deal with too…"

"You know these undead? You seen them before?"

The orc nodded sharply.

"You tell me about them then. Need to hear more. And stop walking like that, you make my head dizzy."

With a grumble, Olkhor sat down at one end of the log and reluctantly related most of what he knew, minus his prior associations with Var'kan and Teyagah during the days when his clan had still rampaged across Draenor. He kept the information recent, only telling the relevant bits of their encounter in the Aerie Peaks. Chu'thog listened quietly with only the occasional nod of his massive head.

"Hyara is right, they very bad," the ogre finally assessed sadly when Olkhor had resumed his brooding silence. "My village not safe with them close by, but chief too stubborn to know it."

"These shades…" Olkhor said with obvious uneasiness. "They're not even out anymore now they got her. Maybe we could sneak in closer. Or I could, anyway." He eyed the ogre's chunky bulk.

"This a trick to charge in and get killed?" Chu'thog asked suspiciously, but backed down with a sigh at the glare he received. "Okay, no. But I come too. I not make so much noise as you think. We camp closer now, huh, and watch and listen."

It was as good a plan as any for now, with the danger from the shades slightly lessened. After a week of squatting at their current location, it took them a little time to gather scattered items and load packs. Then they trudged their way back through the trees toward the ruins, Olkhor leading the horse, Chu'thog trundling along behind with the bags the wolves would normally carry. They'd been asleep, and Olkhor had opted to leave them for now. They'd find their way to the new spot easily. When he reached the tree he'd been looking for, he stopped.

"Old campsite," he grunted. "Should be far enough away again."

Chu'thog nodded his agreement and approval at the cover the ring of bushes would give them. They could see the ruins' luminous crystals from here, even in the watery, shadowed daylight. They could monitor without being seen by the people – and now the shades – who never went far beyond the crumbled walls.

Gink scraped his paws down the thick olemba trunk, as much from pent-up frustration as from instinct. Long gouges marred the smooth surface and he smelled sweet sap already oozing out. He growled and tossed his head, rubbed his back against the roughened trunk. His wounds were utterly gone with only the slightest twinges. He could think of no other explanation for that but Hyara's healing, and it only made the pain of failing her more acute.

Palla sat nearby, head cocked, watching him with sympathetic yellow eyes. Her thoughts swirled into his mind and formed the meaning that would have said in words, _You didn't fail. You almost died for her_.

_Would have died for her._

_She needs you alive. She _wants_ you alive_. The undergrowth parted with barely a rustle as she slid away from the campsite toward the ruins. Gink followed her after a single backward look told him Olkhor wasn't going anywhere at the moment. The cat and the wolf loped along together on light paws, drawn inward by their mutual pain and fear. They would go as close as they dared and they would share their hunters' prison as their steps sent them in endless, restless tracks around the ruins. They had known this feeling before.

* * *


	33. III: They Are Yours

* * *

They'd been put back in their cage, taken out again, and now they were back in like some small child's long-suffering pet. It seemed that despite the undead's eagerness to teach their new student, there were still some activities they conducted in the back room that they didn't want him to see. And despite the disruptiveness of it, Hyara and Galmak were glad for any time they could get together. Uncertainty loomed larger than ever and time was precious.

Galmak had at first been confused by the sense of embarrassment he'd felt steadily from Hyara, wondering if she could still be worrying over the earlier incident, but he'd eventually realized that it was a little more than that: she still wanted him but her draenei reticence was holding her back in light of her behavior that morning. He was relieved when at last he figured it out. He'd been afraid she wouldn't want to touch him for some time, a hard enough thought, and the truth was that he wanted her too. Badly.

Remembering Jas'ka's comment earlier in the day, Hyara had insisted on absolute silence. Galmak had looked at her wickedly and remarked that usually she was the one who had problems controlling her volume, and then they'd fallen on each other hungrily, eager to break a long drought and uncertain how much time they'd have before they were called again to the back room. The only sound had been their muffled pants and the soft thumping of their bodies joining in the orange-smeared darkness cast by the lantern.

It wasn't much time, but it was barely enough. Their breathing was just slowing when they heard the heavy clomp of hooves approaching and Lahgga's voice called out a ten second warning. Galmak spat a curse and slid out of her, then managed to fumble his pants on. Hyara had scarcely enough time to sit up and pull a blanket around herself before the curtain snapped aside and Lahgga glared in at them.

"Caught you this time," he chuckled dryly and jerked his head for them to come out.

"She's not dressed yet," Galmak growled.

"Then she won't be dressed, unless she wants to dress right now." The tauren crossed his thick arms and leaned in the doorway. The message was clear. Hyara got carefully to her hooves, blanket still tucked under her arms, and braced herself against Jas'ka's inevitable cackle as they filed out past the tauren.

It was humiliating and she couldn't stop the blush that crawled into her cheeks, but she'd survived worse. What were these two but unprincipled lackeys, anyway?

"Quiet again, but now yah all dirty an' scratched up!" Jas'ka jeered. "'Ee musta been throwin' yah around good in dere. Dat what yah like?"

Var'kan didn't even take the opportunity to make a jab as they entered the back room; Teyagah's only reaction was a slight smirk as she walked the perimeter of the room to arrange the new modifying runes.

Galmak watched his grandmother with growing unease and listened in his mind as the Shadow roared louder with every rune she placed. The feel was still dulled, muffled, but far more insistent and almost overpowering. He didn't know what to do with all that power clamoring for his attention. Without even realizing, he gripped his forehead in a hand and bent double, panting. Across the room, Hyara sat utterly still, but her face betrayed inner strain. The protective runes were doing their work… for the most part.

"Concentrate, whelp," Teyagah clipped out, standing in front of him.

"On what," he said through gritted teeth.

"On anything," she answered. "That is the first step to control. Were you properly mated to her?"

Galmak raised his head slowly, confused, and stared at her. The question had focused him a little, at least. Perhaps that had been her intention. "What?"

"You understood me. Answer my question!"

"We were married by druids." He struggled to keep his voice steady and suddenly felt the power rushing through him channel, narrowing slightly and with the narrowing, as with a river, intensifying in force.

"Good," Teyagah said, and favored him with a tiny smile. Somehow he didn't think she was approving of the druids. "Now, think about the power and nothing else."

Hyara watched, fighting the muffled whisper of the Shadow that tugged at her magnetically. The runes had brought it to a manageable level, but they couldn't stop her eyes from traveling over her husband, standing shirtless in the center of the room. His muscles flexed with every small movement, his skin was the perfect shade of summery green and glistened with patches of sweat from their lovemaking and his concentration now. He looked so wild and powerful with his hair like that, hanging loose and dark over his shoulders, and the scruffy beard that had been growing since they'd left Stonebreaker Hold. She snorted to herself abruptly and thought, no, no, the beard would have to go eventually. She wasn't much of a beard person. Hyara tore her eyes away and fastened them instead very firmly on the wall near the doorway.

To remove herself from the room and the tremendous temptation it offered, she allowed her senses to roam outside the walls of the building. Much to her relief, she'd felt Gink slip away sometime during the day and now his sense was faint and far. She prayed he'd found the others and was recovering now. Olkhor would surely still be out there somewhere; maybe even Chu'thog had stuck around. Maybe the shades had stopped searching the forest once they'd run across the object of their search. She could, in fact, feel what seemed must be most of them within the confines of the ruins, still moving in their erratic, directionless way. It was disconcerting the way she never felt them waver as if they'd encountered the wall of a ruined house – walls seemed to mean nothing to them and they merely melted right through without interruption. She wondered suddenly why the shade who had found her had bothered to travel the stairs down to the cave.

"Hyara?" Galmak said gently, as if repeating himself. Startled, her attention jerked back inside the room and she caught the blanket just before it slipped down. He was looking at her with concern in his brown eyes. "Are you still alright?"

She nodded and gave him a weak smile. His voice was so deep and soft… Gods, that smile he had. She gave herself a stern mental shake and dropped her eyes to the floor. How could she live the rest of her life like this? She had to believe it would all be different once he mastered his abilities. She knew he _could_ master them. She had to believe that as well.

"Why does it affect her like this?" Galmak asked.

Teyagah's lips were pressed in a tight line of annoyance at the interruption, but she answered, "Because your power is utterly undirected still. It washes through every part of you, including through the bond to your slave. It magnifies everything you feel for each other, especially on her end, since hers is the end of obedience." She said this last with the hint of a growl in her voice. "Were you to summon a true demon right now, assuming you could, it would likely try to kill you. Your unchanneled power would fuel its hatred and you would have no control over it."

"And you are furthermore lucky she isn't fully demon, young brother," Var'kan said, looking up for the first time from a corner table where he'd been mixing powders and potions. "The effects would be far more severe. Of course, if she were fully demon…" He laughed and sent a mocking bow toward Hyara. "Her position would be entirely different among us. Very curious. I admit I wish there were any hope you would tell that story. There are those in the Legion keen to hear it too, and in fact I can think of only one plausible way such a thing as a part-eredar could have come about on Azeroth."

Sudden fear buzzed between them through the bond. They both stared openly at Var'kan. He no longer seemed to be paying them any attention, though, having returned to his careful measurements. His pallid fingers tapped out precise time against the table as he counted the seconds to mix some concoction and his single eye was once again focused only on the work in front of him. Teyagah snapped her fingers impatiently and Galmak dragged his attention back to her even as his mind turned over Var'kan's odd revelation. Only one plausible way…?

"Focus, whelp," she commanded and Galmak did so reluctantly, resisting the impulse to glance at Hyara. It was hard enough to concentrate like this, but now… But he had to, for her sake, even discounting his own discomfort. He growled low and closed his eyes, then tried to imagine the roaring flood in his mind shrinking within the banks of a river. It was loud and unruly, resentful and yet also hungry for his attention. He could feel it churn in response to his attempt. The flowing tide seemed to abate some, and he could swear it narrowed by perhaps a hair. Several feet away, he heard Teyagah make a small exclamation of surprise. He opened his eyes slowly, carefully, trying to keep focus on the modicum of control he'd attained.

"A beginning," his grandmother conceded with a stiff nod. "Perhaps we should see how long you can hold that. You must eventually learn never to let it slip. Sit!" She pointed a finger in Hyara's direction. Galmak wrinkled his nose in a grimace as he crossed the room, and wondered how he'd ever learn to maintain this day and night. For the rest of his life. The thought was too overwhelming and threatened to snap his concentration; he buried it hastily.

As he sat, he fought back the desire to stroke his hand down Hyara's tail peeping out from under the blanket. Although he'd managed a little control today, it was far too tenuous and small for her to feel it behind the dulling power of the runes. She looked over at him and smiled though, and he saw determined resistance on her face. It was, as Teyagah had said, a beginning. He smiled back and settled against the wall, resolved to keep his weak grip on the Shadow for however long it took.

* * *

Gink came across the first one in an unexpected way: he was marking his territory on a bush just outside the ruined wall of the village as an act of defiance. His paw brushed something hard under a mat of leaves. He would have thought nothing of it, but this object felt smooth and rounded in a forest full of prickly, spiky things underfoot. He dug aside the coat of damp leaves and a circular, black stone stared back at him, about the size of his mistress's palm. It was flat, and as he examined it more closely, he could see a pale shimmer and a shifting of shadows across the surface that even Terokkar's odd light couldn't account for. The spot was marked; he padded away with his nose to the ground, following a cold scent that he hadn't noticed before because it was a week old and badly faded. The trail led him a few dozen of his own lengths away to yet another of the strange stones, this one wedged beneath a root. He sent a call to Palla and soon felt her loping nearer. As soon as she was close enough, he revealed his discovery and she immediately took the opposite direction around the circle of the village.

With a bat of his huge paw, he dislodged the stone from beneath the root and clamped his jaws around the cool, flat surface. Gink bounded silently away between the trees.

***

"It's a rock," Olkhor said flatly, but he eyed the thing the cat had dropped at his feet with uneasy distaste.

"It not just a rock," Chu'thog frowned with a slow shake of his head. "It a… a…" He stopped and shrugged, not finding the word he wanted.

"A runestone," Olkhor supplied reluctantly. "Maybe left over from the bad old days. Maybe something they used to hide themselves, for all the good it did."

Gink growled. Olkhor looked at him and frowned.

"Cat not like that idea. I don't think so either… this not arcane. Draenei use arcane, not this." The ogre stooped and hesitantly touched a meaty finger to the black stone.

Much as he hated to admit it, Olkhor thought Chu'thog must be right about that. "Then it's either left over from… from the orcs' attack, or it's new." He grunted and looked at the cat again, wishing the animal could speak. Where had he found it?

At that moment, Palla rustled out of the bushes and joined the little group. She turned her glinting eyes on Gink and he felt an affirmative nudge against his mind. _There are more_, she said. _I found three others._

He nosed the one he'd brought back to show the two-legs and they stared at it, wondering. It had unmistakably been Teyagah's scent they'd caught, once they'd found it, leading them to each runestone. All the ones they'd found seemed to be arranged near the ruins, all outside the border of the walls, and inconspicuously placed. She had even troubled to hide two of the ones Palla had found. Gink told the wolf how he'd found the first under a mat of leaves and the second concealed by a tree root. They were important, obviously. Palla determined that she would ask Galmak what he knew about them when next she could get close.

"Why do I get the feeling they're talking to each other and leaving us right out of it." Olkhor scowled down at the cat and the wolf.

"Because they are," Chu'thog shrugged. "They know things but they can't tell us. They tell us this, though, and they think we need to do something."

"I know that, idiot," the orc grumbled without any real animosity. He was staring down thoughtfully at the black rune and finally bent to pick it up. He held it gingerly between two fingers and scowled at it, wrinkling his broad nose. "Well, it's clean. Doesn't look like it's been sitting around this damned forest for decades. Anyway, don't these things fade after a while if they aren't… maintained?" He had no notion of the finer points of Shadow runes, had only seen them used a few times many, many years ago. Chu'thog shrugged again.

"Betting it's something of theirs." Olkhor nodded his head in the direction of the ruins. Palla pointedly wagged her tail and yipped.

"She says so too!" Chu'thog grinned delightedly.

A sudden hunch crossed Olkhor's thoughts and he asked, "Are there more of these?" Palla's tail wagged again and a twisted half-smile worked its way onto the orc's face. "Then maybe there's something we can try after all."

A few minutes later, Gink and Palla were both trotting their way back through the forest toward the ruined village. Their steps were silent below the rustle of the wind and the sparse patter of raindrops on leaves. They broke company near the walls, Gink traveling south and Palla to the west. When they returned to the camp, they each cradled a flat black stone in their jaws.

* * *

Wind moaned on carved rock walls and light shifted in a dance that varied little, day to night, season to season. The trees that had sheltered the village and watched over its birth, life, death, and afterlife whispered uneasily to each other in the same voices they'd used the whole life of the world. Beneath them, cold moved. Resentment and hatred glided between the dead stones and the roots that crept tentatively into the bounds of the walls in a slow reclamation of what had been theirs millennia before the arrival of the beings who were now dead and unsettled from their bitter sleep.

Night fell in the same curtain of green and deep black that always shrouded the forest. Just as the trees never slept, the shades now were ever watchful. Blue haze drifted or darted, occasionally pausing long enough to reveal the shape of the being it had once been. The restless spirits had never communicated before the two undead orcs had raised them, and they still did not on any conscious level. Yet there was something else that held them together, beyond the sad fact that they had all died here in pain and fear. They were not _only_ those dead beings. They were something more, the knowledge of which flitted in and out of their minds in erratic bursts of understanding.

And for a reason none could explain even if they had been able to think very long about it, they were attracted to the living orc who had been brought to the village. The life in the bodies inside the central building was readily apparent to them, as was the entirely different feel of their undead masters. A few of them could dimly remember how repellant life had felt to them at one time not long ago. It had brought feelings of loss and unquenchable longing, and they had hated it for that, but now they felt differently. Life, and especially the life of _this_ one in particular, was a flame that tried to draw them in. Most fought it, out of habit (the habits of the dead are difficult to break) and fear. But a few…

***

With the lantern unlit and without even any daylight to seep in around the curtain, night dripped blackly from the walls of the tiny room. Galmak listened to Hyara's breathing beside him and wished he could join her in sleep. He was exhausted and his eyes wanted nothing more than to close for the night, but still he clung to the tiny thread of control he'd found earlier. He could feel it even away from the liberating runes in the back room, could still hear the roaring flood heeding him ever so slightly in the far recesses of his mind. He was afraid that sleep would turn his grip slippery and he knew how vital it was that he learn to control this horrible power. Time seemed too short and the need too urgent to surrender to sleep. He grunted and shifted positions to something less comfortable in hopes of keeping himself awake. He knew Hyara would be angry if she woke and found him like this, wide-eyed and dazed. She'd tell him he couldn't stay awake forever and wasn't helping either of them by trying. She'd remind him that he'd have plenty of time to practice when they got away from here, back in Karkun Kamil or out in the warm autumn plains of Nagrand. They'd take their day trips like always before the twins were born, up to the fields above the cleft, where they could sit together in the sun and talk or find a quiet, private spot where no one would ever see them…

His eyes twitched open. He'd been dozing. His brain fumbled for the thread of control and found it gone, slipped away to join the flood. Galmak cursed wearily to himself, unable to reach it again behind the dampening runes. He'd have to wait until tomorrow now and start all over again. Well, no sense in not sleeping now. His eyes drifted shut almost as soon as the thought had crossed his mind and once again he felt Nagrand's sunlight warming his skin, the wind blowing cool through Hyara's hair on his shoulder. Palla curled at his side. He looked up and saw his mother crossing the field to them with her long skirt swishing through the grass.

His mother?

He squinted in the dreamy sunlight and looked again. No. Tall with long dark hair, but not Serlah. He knew the face, though, and the brown skin. He shifted Hyara's sleeping head to a pillow of leaves and stood, then knelt as the woman approached.

"Ancestor," he said, and the word caught in his throat. So much had happened since they'd last spoken. He'd thought their conversation in the Aerie Peaks would be the last.

"Galmak," she said softly and touched the tips of her fingers to the top of his head. "You may call me Kesh'al. We have spoken enough that I should have a name to you."

"I don't deserve the honor of knowing your name, ancestor. I've failed. I've allowed… allowed something unspeakable to happen."

"I will not assuage your guilty conscience, Bloodscry. That is for you to do. I speak to you now to encourage your path." She smiled slightly. "Yes, you still have a path. I cannot tell you whether it is right or wrong, because you have yet to decide that. I can only tell you that you must still listen to yourself. Your talents were corrupted, but your inner voice was not. I think you have forgotten that."

"I… don't think I have forgotten," he said. "My mate needs me and so I have no choice. I wouldn't want any other choice. She'll suffer, and so will our children, if I don't learn how to control myself."

"But you _have_ forgotten," she insisted. She cocked her head and her eyes flickered to Hyara's prone form, asleep in the waving grass. "You have chosen that path, but there are other avenues you have willfully blocked for lack of trust in yourself. Learn again to listen, and to call out as you once did."

The world tipped and melted dizzyingly; sunlight faded to blinding blackness and Galmak's eyes opened. He was lying on his back again in the tiny cubby of a room, just as he had been. Hyara slept undisturbed by his side. Carefully he slipped his arm from beneath her head and sat up in the darkness. He heard the slithering shuffle of Jas'ka's feet out in the main room, then the pop of logs on the tiny, weak fire they kept. In the back room, Var'kan and Teyagah were probably at work even now. He should go back to sleep; they would push him hard tomorrow.

But how could he sleep now? Kesh'al had always come to him for a reason before. What was the reason this time? _Learn to listen, and to call out_. Yet another cryptic comment to lose sleep over.

If there had been any light at all in the room, and the shadows that accompanied the lantern, he couldn't say how long it would have been before he noticed that he and Hyara weren't alone. Even as it was, he had the feeling they'd been observed for some time now. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled as he slowly turned his head toward one corner of their little room. Barely visible against the black rock, a faint blue mist crouched. It was not even fully inside the building, seeming more to be hovering just on the edge of the airspace of the room and mostly still occupying the rock wall that bounded it. Galmak blinked at the thing a moment in alarm, squinting and trying to get a better look even though he knew what it was.

After a pause, he breathed in a whisper, "What do you want?" He shifted his body slightly to lean back protectively over Hyara.

The mist stirred with the barest sigh of air and emerged into the room to become the faint shape of a man. Ephemeral though it was, it filled one end of the tiny space and Galmak felt the cold slithering outward from its movements. He growled softly.

"Who are you?" the draenei shade asked. His voice was deep and hollow, but somehow very soft in the little room. Galmak glanced reflexively at the curtain, but he gauged that the sound wouldn't make it beyond the heavy cloth.

"I am a prisoner here. You know that," he answered cautiously, still hovering over Hyara's sleeping body and praying she wouldn't wake to the sight of the shade.

"Who," the man breathed. The trace of a growl vibrated through the word.

"I'm called Galmak Bloodscry. Of the Thunderlord clan." What other information could he give? Grandson of Teyagah? He didn't relish making that connection for this being.

"We know you," the shade said. There was a long pause, during which Galmak listened to the tranquility of Hyara's sleeping mind and her light, oblivious breaths that mingled with his own uneasy breathing. Then the thing spoke again, its hollow voice slow and pensive. "I was known as Arcorm, but Arcorm never knew you."

"No." The orc's stomach jittered a little as he realized now that the shade apparently hadn't added all the sums yet. He felt a little like a child brought in from play, about to be called to account for bad behavior. Except this was far, far worse. He'd betrayed, albeit unknowingly, the power he'd once thought to serve, without ever even once being given the chance to speak to it or understand it better. Like an adopted child who'd already dishonored the family name before he'd even met his new parents.

"Then it is the other who knows you." The nebulous blue form shifted blurrily into a crouch that brought it a little closer. Galmak barely held back the snarl that sprang to his lips, knowing that any sound he made might call Jas'ka in to investigate. That could be both a liability as well as an asset.

"The other," Galmak repeated the shade, feeling a renewal of his long-contained bitterness and frustration with himself. "Yes, you know me because I was once a shaman. The draenei part of you may have been called Arcorm, but there's another part of you that's much larger than one being. You're the Spirit of the Wilds, and I helped enslave you."

That drew not so much as a twitch from the man's misty figure. For a few minutes that seemed longer than they were, he was frozen in thought. Jas'ka paced by again outside the room and Lahgga snorted sleepily. Hyara stirred without waking and let out a soft sigh. Galmak shifted, his disquiet making him jumpy and impatient, and then the blurred face looked up at him.

"You chose her over the spirits," the being said slowly. Its confusion was evident, but Galmak thought it wasn't confusion over his own actions; rather, the shade's dualities seemed to be perpetually struggling with each other for the upper hand of consciousness.

"Yes. I would do it again a thousand times. It was the right choice and I don't… I've only regretted it once or twice for maybe a second." In spite of himself, a tiny, wry smile twitched his lips. There was no real reason to be honest with this creature, and yet… part of it was the Spirit. He would honor it with the whole truth, for what that was worth. Everyone had their moments of weakness, when they wished for only what was easy.

"And your children," the shade whispered. Then, to Galmak's alarm, the man reached forward. His gauzy blue hand rested with feather lightness on the blanket above Hyara's stomach. This time the orc did snarl and passed his hand through the mist of the other's form. It was a futile blow and the shade only swirled and reformed, unmoved, with his hand still hovering where it had been. Hyara, however, was still. It was almost an unnatural stillness, and Galmak felt sweat beading on his brow despite the chill of the shade in the room. He stared powerlessly and swallowed before he found his voice.

"Please don't hurt her," he said hoarsely. "If there's punishment to be dealt, it goes to me. It was purely my decision. And our children have nothing to do with any of the choices we've made."

"Not so at all," the shade said softly, hand still hovering. "Your grandmother; your mother."

Few enough words, but the point was clear to Galmak: he had grown up free from the poison of the Legion because of the decisions his mother had made. There was no knowing how horribly different things might have been if Serlah had chosen to stay by her mother's side, had chosen that day in Arathi not to run when she was told, but to stand and fight instead… He would never have been born, he could be certain of that.

"Your children will have their own choices, but they must live with some of yours too." The shade's faintly glowing eyes sought Galmak's and held them in a sudden flash of lucidity. "They are yours, two lives entrusted to you, and you must guard them no matter what. Your decision was right; we knew that and we chose not to leave you though the rest did. Life is more things than the simple wash and flow of respect between the shaman and the elements. Life is wrong and also right. The balance of right over wrong is not simple or easy. You are blessed, Bloodscry, despite all you have done, good or bad."

His head buzzed; his breath caught and stuck in his throat. Gaping in mute astonishment was all Galmak could handle for a moment. When at last he found his voice, it was only a low, hoarse rumble. "Forgive me, Spirit… I didn't realize." His instincts had been right – it hadn't been the ancestors speaking to him from the whispering dreams, and it hadn't been the ancestors who had given him that first night-time vision at Thunderlord Stronghold. But once again, he hadn't listened closely enough to either the voice or his own instincts to put two and two together.

"No, you did not realize, Bloodscry," the shade replied slowly, as if mulling over the implications of that. "You were stubborn and impatient. Fearful. You were told you were doing right and you knew it for yourself, and yet you still did not fully believe. Do you resent her for it?"

"Resent her?" Galmak asked incredulously. "How could I resent her? None of it was her fault. She had no idea what would happen to her years ago, and nothing to do with my decision later. I don't resent her. I love her." With the tiniest bit of doubt nagging him, he dug around inside his feelings, searching for the kernel of resentment the Spirit suspected. He couldn't find it. He might sometimes feel regret over the things that could have been if he hadn't made his decision months ago in the Barrens, but he couldn't feel any resentment toward the woman he loved. She and their twins were worth such a sacrifice from him and he was unquestionably happier for having made it.

The Spirit nodded once, an action that seemed stiff and truncated. The glowing eyes slid around the dark room and the being breathed a whispering sigh that sounded far too loud for the space they were in. Galmak couldn't say exactly how he knew, but he suddenly realized that their short time was up; confusion had returned and the Spirit was once more part shade. The cold slowly intensified and a tattered edge of hatred stirred again in the being. With one last, chilling look at the orc, the shade melted backward out the wall the way it had entered.

The room grew slowly warmer in the now unmitigated blackness, his and Hyara's body heat once again filling the tiny space. Galmak sat staring down at her invisible form, lost in thought. The strange, unnatural stillness had lifted from her and he could now hear her tiny, sleepy movements in the darkness. After another moment, she sighed, then yawned, and the soft luminescence of her eyes spilled into the dark room.

She couldn't see him, but she could feel that he was awake. "Can't you sleep, love?"

"I did, for a while."

Silence for a moment, and Hyara could sense that he was deep in his own thoughts. She didn't want to leave him alone, though, wanted inside his head in the dead of night to help him cope with whatever kept him from sleeping off his exhaustion. She pushed herself up to sit by his side against the wall and wrapped her arms around him, laying her head on his shoulder. A horn poked his shoulder blade and he smiled.

"It was the Spirit of the Wilds," he whispered. She didn't say anything, waiting for him to explain. "The voice in the dreams. The elements left me, but the Spirit never left."

She looked up at him, her face close to his, and her eyes cast a weak glow on his cheek. Astonished, and not knowing what to say, she said nothing for a minute. Then finally she whispered, "It understood."

He chuckled very softly and one of his huge hands came over to stroke gently across her belly. "It understood," he agreed. "And it chose to support rather than abandon. I spoke with one of the shades… it spoke as the Spirit for that short time. It said it understood where the rest of the elements didn't, or couldn't."

"Oh, Galmak," she sighed and squeezed him. It was vindication for him and something of a weight lifted for her as well. "You always knew you did the right thing, love. It was the right thing for both of us."

"It was." It didn't come out as a question because he could only agree with her, but she felt him questioning a little through the bond. He wanted to know her reasons for thinking that way, even though he already had his own thoughts on it.

She shifted and looked up at him again, the glow of her eyes this time glimmering a faint reflection in his. "If you hadn't taken the bond but had left it for Serlah, there would always have been a piece of me that wasn't there and didn't belong to you. Part of me would have always been tied far away to your mother, no matter how painless it was. Even now I'd… part of me would be very far away and you could never reach that part or know it. Is that any way for a husband and wife to live? That's why you did it. You couldn't just pat me on the head and say you sympathized and then watch me get torn apart. You had to share the pain and disruption you knew I'd have to live with forever. We're in everything together, hmm?"

"Everything," he said, and this time she heard the smile in his voice and felt the intense love and pride that seared through the bond. He'd always known he'd done right, but now he'd finally heard it from the source he needed to. Maybe now she could truly help his guilt at who he'd become to fade away.

"Sleep now, love," she whispered softly, nipping his ear, and tried to send some of her own calm washing through him. He needed little urging. Galmak laid down and she settled beside him. Very soon, sleep claimed them both and their soft breathing filled the tiny room.

* * *


	34. III: Learning

* * *

**A/N:** In a Dark Place has had its first chapter rewritten, for anyone who's interested. Expect a very slow update schedule on that, but I do plan to flesh out more details as I continue further into the story.

* * *

"How many does that make?"

Chu'thog looked over at the orc in alarm, then squinted at the pile of black stones on the ground in front of him. "Eleven," he said sheepishly after a moment of furrowing his brow.

To his surprise, Olkhor didn't take the obvious opening for a jab at his brainpower. "How many of the damn things are there," the orc growled instead and looked uselessly at Gink. The cat yawned and rested back on his haunches. "Too damn many, that's what. At the rate we're going, we won't find them all. Don't even know if this is doing any good." He walked over to the pile and kicked at a stone with the toe of his boot, maybe one of the first they'd laid, since it was covered in dirt and barely distinguishable from any old worthless rock.

"They not take too many at once or they get caught. Or bad undead notice. That be worse than doing nothing!"

Olkhor didn't agree with that last, but he didn't bother disagreeing. Palla and Gink could only carry one stone each at a time, and he'd decided they oughtn't make too many trips each day for fear of attracting attention. They went to the ruins, they each sniffed their way to a runestone, they carried it away. Many of them were hidden; some were difficult for the cat and the wolf to dislodge from their hiding places without help. Most were clean, but the animals had brought back a few they'd chanced across that were caked with dirt and already seemingly faded in power. That indicated the undead might be setting new ones all the time to replace the old faded ones, which nearly made Olkhor despair at the possible futility of what they were doing. He wondered if they'd ever be able carry enough away. Now it was their second day of implementing this sketchy plan and they had no way to tell if they were having any effect inside the village.

"Maybe I should go with them," the warrior growled, staring off toward the ruins.

"Bad idea." Chu'thog shook his head. "Shades seem to not care about animals, but I bet they care if they see people. You not sneaky either."

Unfortunately, the damned ogre was right. Olkhor slapped a knee in frustration and sat on a boulder, his eyes still trained on the faint glimmer of crystals through the trees. He'd gotten the idea to carry the runes away based solely on his remembrance of the stones Var'kan had used to encircle the blood pool in the Aerie Peaks. They'd been important somehow, in some way he'd never learned. Now the undead had encircled the village with runestones for some purpose. What could it possibly be? Likely not the same reason they'd encircled the pool; these runes were far larger and no one seemed to be attending them closely this time. Var'kan or Teyagah had apparently hidden them and left, content that they'd do their job without further interference.

And what had Hyara said? Galmak struggled with the Shadow now.

"The Shadow's their home ground and they know it better than him," he muttered to himself. "But they'd be stupid not to be afraid of him after last time. Don't know if he can use the Shadow like he could the elements, but they wouldn't know…"

Olkhor slapped his knee again, this time with a chuckle. "How else would they be sure to keep him in there?" he asked the ogre rhetorically.

Chu'thog looked at him askance. "You talking with yourself. Chu'thog not know."

"They're scared of him," he explained with a grin. "They know now he can fuck them up if he feels like it, and this time they're making sure that doesn't happen. They're using those runes like a cage. The runes keep Galmak from smashing heads!"

"Smashing heads!" the ogre roared. "Chu'thog understand now. We doing good!"

"Doing good," Olkhor agreed smugly. Palla yipped excitedly and sent a look toward Gink, but the cat only whined and kept his eyes intently on Olkhor. The orc caught the look and his face fell. "Don't think you should go again yet," he said with a grimace. "Don't have any way of knowing… they might notice if too many disappear all at once. Sorry," he added, feeling awkward as usual at speaking to an animal. Gink whined resignedly and laid his head on his paws.

Chu'thog held out a hand to Palla and she deigned to let him scratch her ears. "You keep gathering, we keep waiting," the ogre told her sympathetically.

"And in the meantime, we'll come up with a plan for smashing some heads of our own when the time comes," Olkhor said with a dour, toothy smile.

Chu'thog met that idea with hearty enthusiasm.

* * *

They weren't even awake yet the next morning when Jas'ka ripped the curtain aside and hollered crankily for them to come out. He was obviously just as irritated as they were to be woken at such an hour, but the undead kept their own mysterious schedule with little regard for the sleeping habits of the living.

"Yah lucky dey even let yah sleep at night," the troll grumbled as he herded them down the hall and pushed them through the door. "Now Ah go back ta sleep and you get ta mess wit' dem."

'Mess with them' was just about the way of it, they found out as they entered, because the room was an astonishing mess today. The tiny cobalt vials, now stacked carefully on a shelf against one wall, had given way on the tables to more of the miniature boxes they'd seen before. Powders, dried leaves, and glinting stones that might have been more runes overflowed from the boxes and were strewn across the work surfaces. The floor of the room was littered with open crates, from which bottles and boxes and bags overflowed in an unlabeled mishmash. The floor was stained in several places with some substance that had escaped from its container and gone trickling unchecked through the carved cracks. Amidst the chaos, Var'kan was seated calmly in one of the chairs, an enormous, gilt-edged tome open on his lap. Teyagah stood behind him, frowning down at the book over his shoulder. Her finger was poised above the page as she pointed out a passage.

"Ah, yes," Var'kan said, looking up and snapping the book shut with a finger inside. "I apologize for the early hour. It is best that we get a good start today."

Teyagah walked briskly around the room replacing the special runes, and the last of Galmak's sleepiness was immediately driven from his mind as the Shadow began to roar louder. Hyara settled herself resignedly in her usual spot, rubbing her forehead.

"What is all this today?" Galmak asked as Teyagah placed the last rune. He swept a gesture around at the mess scattered across the floor.

"You needn't be concerned about it yet," his grandmother answered in her usual tight-lipped fashion, but Var'kan shrugged as he finally rose from his chair and thumped his way into the center of the room.

"You'll know soon, young brother," he said. "We spoke of later stages of our plans when we first brought you here; this is the beginning of one such later stage. Very soon."

"You will make progress today, judging by yesterday," Teyagah said. "Can you grasp the Shadow again now, as you did before?"

He'd been trying unconsciously, he realized abruptly, since she'd begun placing the runes. Just as she asked her question, the thread he'd found the day before leaped into focus and his mind snatched at the slippery filament before it could meld again with the flood. Teyagah gave a light laugh as she sensed his success.

"Far easier the second time, you see," Var'kan commented with a nod. "See if you can gather more of it to you now."

He had no idea how he might go about doing that, and his first attempt was clumsy and painful. He groaned aloud at the sheer torrential force of hateful power that suddenly drenched his mind, as if he'd stepped straight into a river in flood, and the rivulet of control he'd achieved slithered away from him. Teyagah laughed again.

"Wrong, whelp. You still treat the Shadow as if it owes you nothing and you must ask it, as a shaman would. You ask the Shadow nothing. You demand and you bend it into submission. Now, _seize_ what is already yours!"

With a determined growl, he focused his mind again and almost instantly caught the now-familiar thread. Reluctantly, he thought back to the meeting hall in Karkun Kamil and the confrontation with Lahgga in the forest. What had he done then? There'd been no room for thought, he'd only reached and… and seized it, just as Teyagah said. There'd been the anger, but he refused to believe the anger was necessary. There'd been some feeling of entrapment each time; he was certainly trapped now.

"Whelp," Teyagah growled. "You are thinking too much."

He frowned. No, thinking had never seemed like a criterion before, but surely for _control_ it was necessary? And then he realized, _No, it isn't_. Each time he'd managed to call on the Shadow without thought he'd been in control of it. It had been himself that had felt out of his control. If there was no thought involved, then…

_You will obey, because you're mine._

And the Shadow came to him. He imagined it was the way a lightning rod must feel. Power surged through him as before, but now there was direction and restraint. He felt it whispering sullenly in groveling submission and he felt the tingling of it throughout his body as if it longed for him to let it escape. And then, just as suddenly, he realized that his grip was weak. With a groan, he let his legs collapse and he thumped to the floor as the flood washed through him again in chaotic, unrestrained currents. For a moment, he panted on the floor while the Shadow roiled more madly than before, then at last settled to the familiar rolling boil in his mind.

When he finally recovered his equilibrium and looked up, Teyagah and Var'kan were nodding at him with satisfied smiles. Hyara was beside him, staying at arm's length although her face was full of worry. He nodded to her reassuringly and took another gulp of air.

"Alright," he said. "I see now how it's done. How do I hold onto it?"

"More difficult, I'm afraid," Var'kan said with a very slight grimace that did nothing to improve his grotesque face. "Something like toning a muscle you never knew you possessed. What's more, you must tone it so it can stay flexed forever." He saw the look on Galmak's face and he chuckled. "It will grow easier with time and practice, but you _must_ practice and you must learn not to despise your talents. You certainly still have some problems with acceptance, young brother."

The undead crossed his arms and bowed his head for a moment, studying the stained floor as he thought. "You will have noticed it flows through you like a flood. It's very difficult to put in words, but… you must feel your way through it and not be effaced. Show it you are stronger and that it must listen to you and obey. Show it also that it has an outlet in you… Although there is no compromise or agreement with it as there is with the elements, it is still useful to give it an incentive."

"All this makes it sound as if it has a will and a purpose, like the elements," Galmak remarked cautiously.

"I suppose it does," Var'kan admitted. "Though it is not the same. The Shadow is not a being, but an energy. Most mindless energy is selfish in some way; it all longs for release or influence of a sort. You are to make yourself a path of least resistance, since it has already chosen you as a conduit. Smooth your mind to its path so it flows easily and freely. A rough channel will eventually be churned to pieces."

From what Hyara could glean from such a vague and figurative explanation, Galmak's main problem was perhaps that he still didn't want his power over the Shadow and so he handled it something like a person might touch a week-dead rat. He had to bring himself to not only accept it, but to revel in it. Only then would he have the experience and practice that it took to do as Serlah had done and push it away, sequestered and unused in his daily life. She had felt his progress; there was no doubt of that. The runes muffled most of the feeling, but for a brief moment when he'd gained control she had felt almost wholly free of the magnetic pull. It was possible, if only he could learn first acceptance and then constant discipline. She watched sadly, head resting on her chin, and tried not to worry about the likelihood of him ever really accepting it wholeheartedly. He was a survivor, though, as she was too, and she had to believe he could find some way to accomplish what he needed to, even if it wasn't quite in the way that the undead believed was the only way.

The day wore slowly away. Galmak's progress was noticeable but slow. Jas'ka brought in food sometime around noon and then later he and Lahgga took them out into the cold daylight for a short break. Unusually, Teyagah also accompanied them and strolled away through the ruins only to return a few minutes later. She stalked past them to the entrance to their prison without even a glance their direction, but when she reached the door she turned and stood sentinel, watching the four living beings stretching their legs amid the ruins of the dead. Galmak ignored her stolidly; Hyara tried, but she couldn't help the unsettling feeling that she was being sent the occasional bitter, jealous glance of a prized toy thought lost and suddenly turned up in someone else's possession. But it was good to simply be allowed to be together and talk when they weren't whispering in the dark of a stuffy closet-sized room. Out here they at least knew no one was eavesdropping from behind a curtain.

The shades had either been commanded to stay away from the living when they were out in the village, or they stayed away out of their own preference. Galmak and Hyara caught not even a glimpse of them although the feel was ever-present in ragged bunches further out. There was no sign either of the shade who had spoken to Galmak with the voice of the Spirit, and the orc couldn't pick out the being's individual presence among so many others of its kind. Finally giving up his search with an inner shrug, Galmak led Hyara several strides away to a seat on a crumbled wall. Lahgga eyed them guardedly, but he didn't intervene.

"It's a relief out here," Hyara admitted quietly.

Galmak sighed and stifled the impulse to clench a frustrated fist around the chunk of rock he was toying with. He nodded agreement. Out here, they were under the influence once again of the simple dampening runes Teyagah must have placed throughout the village. There was no control for him to manage and no more strain on Hyara than there had been before the Shadow had fully awakened in him.

"I'll get control," he said, although he knew she had more faith in him than he had in himself. "My mother did all this somehow; I know I can do it."

"I know, love," she said gently. "I only–" But she broke off, tilting her head quizzically. "What's wrong?"

Just for a moment, he'd sensed an odd feeling in the air around them. Now something was very slightly different. "I'm not sure," he murmured in puzzlement. "Nothing wrong, exactly. Nothing, I guess." He shrugged dismissively and squeezed her hand. He might have elaborated anyway, but just then he caught sight of Lahgga trundling over in their direction and he put on an unwelcoming scowl.

"What do you want?" he growled at the tauren.

"Just to see what's so important you have to talk about it out here away from our ears," Lahgga replied with a not-so-friendly grin. "You know we wouldn't like to have to kill you, but our orders still stand."

"I always have to laugh when I hear a mercenary talking about the all-importance of his 'orders'," Hyara remarked with a cool arch of a brow. "Was anything you told us in Shattrath true?"

"Every word of it." Lahgga's muzzle wrinkled in a ferocious scowl. "I don't pride myself on lies."

"Well, it must be a lie that you're supposed to kill us. What would be the good in that?" she returned.

"A lie, I have to agree," Galmak said, crossing his arms and staring up at the druid with a half-smile. He found that it was rather nice to be on the dishing end of the taunting rather than the receiving end for once lately. "Kill me and all their hard work goes to shit. Kill her and I lose my motivation to work at all. What's the point in even threatening, Lahgga? You've lost all credibility."

"You can only wish it's a lie, orc," he said in a quiet growl. He cast a quick glance at Jas'ka, who was sitting across the courtyard, shaving a dagger down the bark of another olemba branch. "Unlike him, I'd take no pleasure in it. But you can damn well bet I'd do it if I had to. Don't get too comfortable with how indispensable you are here. From what they've said, you're not as untouchable as you seem to think. And that goes double for you, _ambassador_."

With a rough laugh, he strolled back toward Jas'ka, leaving them both puzzled and quietly seething. His words were undeniably disturbing, much though they knew he'd hoped for just that effect. He'd turned on its head the precarious safety they'd come to believe in.

"Do you really think he was lying?" Hyara asked in a low voice, refraining from throwing an uneasy look at Teyagah, who still stood in the doorway like a prison warden. The undead's eyes had undoubtedly taken in the brief confrontation.

"I hope," was all Galmak could bring himself to say at the moment. For himself he cared little, perhaps couldn't even bring himself to believe Lahgga was correct that the undead didn't value the training they were giving him. But Hyara was utterly at their mercy, which he admitted now he'd almost allowed himself to forget, so hopeful had he been about his own apparent importance to them. They'd already shown they placed no value on her safety; Teyagah had even admitted that Hyara would likely be dead by now if they'd all stayed in captivity the first time. Which meant, of course, that the twins teetered on a dangerous knife's edge as well. Galmak had allowed himself to believe that she was safe as long as they still cared about training him, but now he couldn't even be sure of that. Var'kan's flimsy promise notwithstanding.

"Well," Hyara said briskly, and he appreciated the bracing feeling that radiated through the bond. "What else would they tell the mercenaries? 'Keep them here by any means.' Of course in their brains that translates to killing."

He was trying to quell his doubt, if only for her sake, but he couldn't help but admit, "Jas'ka said that before, but I didn't believe him. It was before I knew they had a use for me too, and didn't just want revenge."

"Blustering," Hyara pronounced with the particular raise of a brow and roll of her eyes that always made him smile.

In the doorway, Teyagah said something to Jas'ka and snapped her fingers before disappearing inside. The troll stood up with a stretch of his lanky legs and gave an unnecessarily loud whistle in their direction. Lahgga started to stroll over.

"Look, the assholes want us back inside now. Suppose we'd better go." Galmak made a face of distaste that Hyara had to smile at, and they started reluctantly back for the door.

The last half of the day passed in much the same way the first half had, but with one small change Galmak hazarded the undead would have no way of detecting: his efforts at achieving control were not quite as earnest as they had been before. Progress was vital, for reasons of Hyara's safety and sanity, not to mention his own. Rapid progress, however, wasn't entirely desirable at this juncture, he decided. For now, they needed the time to figure something – anything – out. What was the need to rush his abilities?

Night brought the unexpected answer to that question.

* * *

"I can't imagine why they keep strewing those little boxes all over the place," she whispered. The flickering light of their lantern caught the soft angles of her face and turned her eyes to wide blue pools. He tilted his head backward on her lap, seeing her upside down above him. The shadow of her horns leapt against the walls and he thought of running gazelles in the Barrens.

"I can't tell what they're doing with most of it," he whispered in reply. "Some of it might be ground herbs, but I'm not familiar enough… my mother could probably tell just from the smell of the room, every herb they've got in there."

"Why didn't she prepare you?" Hyara said suddenly, softly, obviously treading lightly but wanting to know the answer. He let silence settle for a few moments.

"I wish I knew," he finally admitted. "Maybe she hoped it wouldn't ever really take hold in me. Denial works in funny ways sometimes, and gods know she's been trying to deny her own talents for long enough. Or maybe… maybe she knew I'd be angry. I wouldn't believe her. I wasn't ready to accept any of it yet and I never would have believed I had to."

"So she let you go off on your own to find out." It might easily have sounded like an accusation, but he couldn't feel any indignation behind it. Only a little wistful sadness. "I suppose… I suppose that's what motherhood is sometimes."

He grasped her hand and then they were silent again, both weary from a day of mental strain. It was this weariness and the fresh awareness of what had caused it that made Galmak spring suddenly upright when he again felt an odd change around them. It was similar to what he'd felt, or thought he'd felt, earlier in the courtyard, but somehow the intensity seemed to have nudged upward a little. And with that very slight increase in intensity, he thought now he could recognize essentially what it meant.

"Galmak…?" Hyara whispered uncertainly. She rested a hand lightly on his back and the touch was electric, conveying her unease in conjunction with the bond. He held up a hand and her hand dropped away. He needed a moment to flex his muscles, so to speak, find out how much room…

He swallowed and a trickle of sweat ran down his temple. "Something's different. I don't know exactly how, but somehow something just changed and I can feel the Shadow a little more strongly."

"This happened earlier too, didn't it."

"Yes, but I couldn't tell what it was then. I'm sure of it now. I don't know if their runes have been messed with or, or…" He shrugged and his eyes flickered over her piercingly. "How do you feel?"

She shook her head, shrugged. "No different."

That at least brought him a sigh of relief. Whatever the change meant, he could feel it but it wasn't yet strong enough to affect her. _Shit_. He began thinking aloud. "Is this something new Var'kan and Teyagah are playing at? I wonder if they've already wised up to my scheme to play for time?"

"How could they?" she said with a tight frown. "It's only been half a day… they couldn't be sure about anything."

"Well then it's something else. And I'm going to have to start trying again in earnest. If this keeps getting worse, meaning the Shadow keeps getting stronger even behind the runes, you're going to start feeling it if I don't get control. If I move faster at getting control, it accelerates whatever plans they've got for us." He beat a fist in an almost silent thud against the stone wall.

"They might have been planning this anyway, regardless of what you decided today, love. Maybe they think you weren't moving fast enough even before this afternoon. It's… it's obvious how reluctant you still are." She dropped her eyes as she said this last.

He grunted and didn't say anything for a minute. "It's that obvious, is it. It's not that I don't want it, Hyara, for your sake."

She sighed tiredly, grabbing his hand and absently measuring his huge fingers against her long, slim ones. "You don't need to explain. But there's a difference between wanting something and knowing you need something."

He reflected on that, realizing the sense in it. No, he didn't want the Shadow, but he knew now how much he – they, in fact – needed it. Couldn't that be enough? It was something to consider the next day.

"We should sleep now," she said, and her eyes were already half closed. He grunted assent and they laid down on their dusty, dirty blanket to close their eyes before there was no more time left for it.

* * *


	35. III: The Past is Never Dead

* * *

Just as yesterday, Jas'ka woke them at an obscene hour and leered maliciously around the curtain until they'd stumbled out, still half-asleep.

They awoke very quickly, however, when a dagger flashed out to slide lightly down Hyara's front. The troll jerked her backward by her tail before Galmak could spring to the defensive and she stood in stunned motionlessness, helpless in her surprise.

"Been a while. Care ta oblige?" the troll hissed in her ear, then cackled and gave her a shove to send her stumbling into Galmak's arms. The orc snarled and would have lunged, but Lahgga's towering bulk was suddenly at Jas'ka's side with a drawn blade.

"Enough," the tauren growled, addressing the both of them. The sword point was directed at the orc, however. "Keep your grubby hands to yourself, Jas'ka. I shouldn't have to tell you that by now."

"Jus' jokin'," the troll sneered. "Prob'ly wouldn' wanna feel dat tail wrapped around me anyway. Who knows where it's been?"

It was likely a good thing that the door to the back room flew open at that moment.

"Now!" Teyagah snapped. "When I tell you to bring them I expect to see them in here, not chatting with you!"

Lahgga took the initiative to prod the prisoners down the hallway before Jas'ka could make any further comments. Galmak, however, managed to send the troll one last death look before the door slammed behind them. He was suddenly very glad they spent most of their time in the back room.

The room's mess, if possible, seemed worse today. More thick books had been laid open across the broad work surfaces, bindings practically cracking from the weight of the pages. When Galmak tried to get a look at one of them, Teyagah's fist flashed out and rapped him sharply on the head.

"Mind your business, whelp," she said with one corner of her mouth curled into a smile.

He couldn't have read it anyway, from what he'd been able to glimpse. Some kind of code, perhaps, shimmered in twisted symbols like runes across the page. It might have been Demonic, but somehow he didn't think so. The writing looked different from that in the very few books and scrolls his mother still possessed from her days before her new life; he'd been allowed a few scant views of them as a child, simply because he'd seen them and been curious. He remembered his father pulling them reluctantly from a high shelf and allowing him to flip pages for a moment before explaining that he was never to touch them again. Like a good son, he never had – at first mostly because he couldn't reach them, but later because he'd come to understand what they represented to his parents.

Unlike some other days, Var'kan was now the one absent – Teyagah would apparently be his instructor for now. She was less patient and certainly less polite – even if Var'kan's politeness was the sticky, over-sweet and insincere kind – but Galmak hardly cared about that. He had more important worries.

"Tell me, whelp," his grandmother said, "did she ever teach you to speak Draenei?"

Galmak's eyes flicked to Hyara, then back, and his head shook in the negative. "Common."

Teyagah growled and huffed a sharp sigh. "A pity; that might have made it slightly easier. You must begin to learn Eredun. Not every spell is spoken aloud, but the more complex ones are often aided with speech. And any spell at all _can_ be spoken aloud, of course."

"Draenei is not Eredun, and you would never understand me if I spoke it," Hyara said indignantly across the room. She added a few rude words for Teyagah in Draenei for emphasis.

"Must I muzzle you?" Teyagah sneered, clearly short on patience already. "No, Draenei is not Eredun. The structure is similar, though, and of course many of the words are similar. Some are even cognates, although it is not so noticeable because your Light-infatuated people do not generally use most of the words used in casting demonic spells. I don't suppose your stubborn mother ever taught you any fragments of Demonic?"

"No," he answered, and barely refrained from being less polite about it.

"No, of course not. And don't look at me in that snide, angry way, whelp, or perhaps I will decide to remove a few of the runes protecting your mate. Now, the sort of Demonic or Eredun used in our spells is not the sort the common demons use to talk amongst themselves. It is of a far more specialized, refined sort. I will give you a few books to study in your time tonight. I suspect you are incapable of learning it at any great rate–" Here her mouth thinned and twisted in a prim sneer. "–but perhaps you might learn something."

"Then I'll need more time tonight," he said flatly. "You barely give us time to sleep as it is. And I'll need another lantern."

"Another lantern," she agreed with a narrowing of her eyes. "But time? You are already short enough on time here. Do you want to learn control or not? Your sense of focus is miserable. Just as your mother was at first, always with her own silly ideas of how to accomplish anything!"

"And why am I short on time?"

She laughed, a chilly sound, but otherwise ignored the question.

While Hyara didn't believe his lack of progress the previous day could have been marked enough to arouse their suspicions, the improvement today was noticeable. Even Teyagah grew less short with him and more impressed – indicated only by a tiny, tight smile at select times – over the course of the day. Var'kan showed up in late morning and was more generous with his praise. They were both clearly (and disturbingly) pleased that their pupil had at last begun to grasp some of the finer aspects of what they taught. Galmak could now hold onto full control for more than an hour before his body and mind began to buckle from the strain.

"I can see why Mother said warlocks sometimes go insane during their training," he muttered, panting a little and taking a short rest after his last lapse in control.

"Oh yes," Teyagah nodded. "You should have seen the very first efforts under Ner'zhul. Ridiculous; scores went mad, and many of those died. Those who hadn't the wit to gain control quickly, once they'd opened themselves to the Shadow, were the first to go mad."

"Ridiculous, just so," Var'kan laughed in absent remembrance, and Galmak wrinkled his nose in disgust. Didn't he even have compassion for his own filthy kind? Well, no, the answer to that was obvious after all: Galmak was himself Var'kan's own filthy kind now, and he certainly hadn't seen any compassion.

A painful and shocking jolt greeted Galmak when at last the undead released him from training and he stepped out of the rune-shielded room. He'd purposely let control slip through his fingers at the end and had told Hyara in a whisper to prepare herself as well as she could and straggle a little distance behind him as they left. It was a test he needed to conduct, to see if their suspicions of the previous day had been correct, and he found out immediately that they must be correct in at least some way. The Shadow assaulted him more strongly than it had last night when he'd felt the slight change. More runestones in the village had been changed somehow. And in yet another measure of how much worse it was now, he felt a slight shock and mental intake of breath from Hyara as well. Hastily, he fumbled for the Shadow and managed to sweep it into his grasp, at the same time wondering if Var'kan and Teyagah could sense what he was doing and were laughing right now as he played into some new plot of theirs. Behind him, Hyara took a relieved breath and shuffled down the hallway, at Lahgga's impatient prodding, to join him in their closet-prison.

"That was a bit close," she said with a strained smile. "You almost had me all over you again."

He frowned and sat down tiredly. "Not that I'd mind that normally, but don't tell me it was as bad as that first time."

"No. But it was a sudden shock, even though you warned me. You–" She cut off and her head cocked to one side in a gesture he knew well. He sat looking up at her standing over him and waited patiently. Her brow furrowed, still more silence, and then she turned her attention back to him. "Gink's been waiting to talk. He didn't want to while I was in there." She paused again. "He and Palla have been taking runes they found just outside the walls."

Galmak's eyebrows climbed and he grabbed a little angrily at the Shadow as it seemed to sense his divided attention and bucked toward chaos. "Taking them? And doing what with them?"

"Just taking them away. Out of range, I imagine. To where Olkhor and Chu'thog are. It was Olkhor's idea; he guessed they must be important. They've been moving them carefully for several days now."

"Gods, there must be dozens then, if I'm only just now feeling it."

"I told him what it's doing. He wants to know if they should stop."

With a frown, he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. Stop, certainly not. But should they slow down? Give him more time to learn the tricks of his new trade? "No," he concluded. "They should keep it up just as they are. It might… might be the only way we'll get out of here, and the slower they go, the more chance Teyagah will find out what they're doing. Or the shades. Have they been staying away from the shades?" he asked almost frantically.

"Yes. He says they have, but the shades don't seem to pay much attention to them anyway since they never try to come inside the ruins. Or at least Palla doesn't. Gink comes sneakily. I suppose they weren't included in the shades' orders, unless they tried to interfere as Gink did in the cave."

True; Var'kan and Teyagah had never paid much attention to the wolf and the cat who flitted around the boundaries of the two-legs' world. Galmak had pieced together that the undead didn't hold hunters and their largely practical – not magical – talents in the highest esteem.

"Well," he said wearily and shuffled around a few of the books Teyagah had sent him away with. "I'll just have to triple my efforts. But honestly, Hyara, I'm not sure how long I can hold onto this control while I'm also trying to study this shit they gave me."

"Then we'll have a problem," she said with a weak smile. "Because you won't get much done if you don't keep control either."

"You can't hold it together for a while? You said it wasn't as bad as the first time."

She glared a little as she finally sat down beside him, Gink having faded away again with another rune clamped in his mouth. "I might, I don't know, but mightn't you be distracted _at all_ if I'm sitting in a far corner panting after you and struggling to keep my hands to myself? So to speak," she added hastily with a blush of embarrassment.

He laughed and gave her a lecherous, playful look before reminding himself that it really was no laughing matter. He sighed and flipped open a book, staring absently at the twisting symbols in the poor reading light that would eventually strain even an orc's eyes. "Sorry, love. I'll do whatever I can to hang on while I'm figuring out this nonsense." Then, feeling like he was back in school as a boy and had been set a lesson he had no interest in, he scowled at the offending book and thumbed through the pages to the end as if he could make it shorter just by gauging the length. What a fun night he had ahead of him – no sleep and demonic runes marching across his vision in the half-darkness. With perhaps an eventual pleasant distraction to look forward to, some inner devil reminded him, before disgust kicked in and he told himself he _could not_ give in to that because it simply wasn't right.

"I have an idea," Hyara said abruptly, and she smiled. "They didn't give you the lantern they promised… maybe I can do something that will keep me distracted even if you lose control." The smile stayed on her lips, mingling with a look of concentration, and he watched as she raised her right hand, cupped it, and stared at her long, slim fingers. He looked too, wondering what in hells she was doing. Her fingers were graceful but calloused from the bowstring, nails chipped and a bit dirty from their long stint of less-than-adequate bathing… and then suddenly he couldn't see any of that anymore because a brilliant, blue-white light had flared in her palm and temporarily blinded him. He grunted in surprise and jumped slightly in spite of himself.

"Where did you learn to do that?" he asked, impressed. He'd never even tried grasping at arcane magic without an arrow to send it into; frankly, it hadn't occurred to him.

"Where? You don't want to know where," she answered with a wrinkle of her nose. "It takes concentration to keep it up. I'll be your light." She rested her elbow carefully on one knee, barely taking her eyes from the ball of energy hovering above her palm to glance his way with a smile.

The tiny chamber glowed with bluish brilliance now; there was plenty of light to read by. He pulled the books toward him, sending a look at the heavy black curtain and hoping none of the light was making it outside to attract the goons' attention. No sense worrying, though; they'd certainly find out if Jas'ka or Lahgga noticed.

Strangely, as he worked his way painstakingly through the most basic, thoroughly-annotated book Teyagah had given him, his instinct told him that the odd mishmash of meaningless symbols was beginning to make sense a little more quickly than it should have. The Shadow whispered and cackled through his body in a thousand voices that seemed to speak meanings to him he never would have remembered so readily on his own. Somehow his tenuous control was assisting him, almost willing him, to speak its language. It was highly unnerving, as if his intellect were being invaded and commandeered to a purpose not of his choosing. He kept at it nevertheless, making his way slowly through the first book, the silence of their vaulted stone closet scratched only occasionally by the dry rustle of a turned page. Hyara's light blazed on and he was dimly aware, just outside the circle of his own concentration, of the pointed focus of her mind like the sun through a jeweler's magnifying lens. Her determined effort fueled his own and gave him encouragement.

Finally he closed the book with a thud and tossed it aside. "That's it. I've got to sleep now before they make me start all over again tomorrow."

Hyara let the light wink out and they were surrounded again suddenly by the bleary flicker of the lantern. It was almost like being bathed in utter darkness after the sharp arcane light and her eyes glowed very wide at him. He could see a little fear there.

"Alright," she said, her voice steady and calm enough.

"I'm going to hold onto it as long as I can. Maybe if you fall asleep first…"

She nodded with a noncommittal sound and laid down. He wondered what sort of dreams she might have that night, assuming she didn't wake up once discipline slid away from him in sleep. Sighing to himself, he laid down beside her and brushed his hand beneath her shirt, across the slowly growing swell of her belly. He could see the change easily, knowing her body as well as he did, but thank the gods Var'kan and Teyagah hadn't noticed anything yet, and apparently neither Jas'ka nor Lahgga had disclosed what they knew. It would be perfectly noticeable with a little more time, though. With the runes gradually disappearing, time would be running shorter and shorter. And then there was the private, sinister countdown that the undead seemed to be keeping.

***

The images were dark and confused, but the feelings were not. Hyara moaned in the delicate agony of frustration and her dream-body thrashed. Her mind was barely thinking, more like feeling its way through a jumble, trying to find something that whispered sensuously to her. It was him, but where was he, she wanted him, her master…

_No!_ The dream bubble burst and her eyes flew wide in the darkness. She could feel him beside her, asleep, and it was almost too much. Sweatily, panting, she crawled away from him as far as the tiny space would allow and laid down again with her back turned and her face close to the wall. She recognized the familiar, scratchy-eyed promise of sleeplessness that now held her eyes open and she knew she would be in for a long, painful night. Maybe by morning she'd be exhausted enough to fall asleep during his training.

Scrunching her eyes shut against the darkness, she determinedly shoved her thoughts away from her husband sleeping on the floor behind her. The twins were still tiny, relatively speaking, but they were big enough that they were already beginning to show some evidence of their little lives. Based on Kereth's estimate, they might be about three months along by now. They would be big babies, maybe bigger than draenei twins would have been. They would be so different. They would… what would they look like? Would they have his brown eyes, would they have feet or hooves? Tusks or a tail? A sob escaped her, hastily stifled. She had no idea what her children would look like; they might be beautiful and perfect with a blend of all the best features of both their parents, but they would always look wrong to someone. Karkun Kamil would protect them for a while, but not forever. How could she ever explain these things to her babies, sigh resignedly, and say 'That's just how things are'?" No answer came to her and she was suddenly furious that such thoughts had to cloud her joy.

It was in this way that the shade found her. An unnatural chill crept across the floor and slid its way up her back, making her roll away from the wall abruptly and sit bolt upright. A faintly glowing blue haze filled the other end of the room and she stared at it in fear. She could just make out that the thing was gazing down at Galmak and she wondered if it was the Spirit returned to talk to him, but he was dead asleep and didn't even stir at the cold. The Spirit would not speak to her, she knew.

And so it startled her when the face swung slowly around to fix its eyes on her. "He sleeps," the shade hissed in a low, hollow voice. "You still fear him."

Her back was pressed hard to the pocked wall and her eyes were wide. Her muscles unfroze enough to grant her a shake of the head. "No."

"There is fear on you," the thing said. "Not all fear of… me. Him. An orc, a murderer. A killer of children. A daughter of Argus is right to fear that kind, because never have we seen such a terrible enemy since we left our home."

She would _not_ argue the same old points with a dead man that she had argued with her own family years ago. Hyara only shook her head again and curled her arms around her knees, keeping her eyes carefully away from Galmak's prone, muscular form, barely visible in the faint glow cast by the shade, his chest heaving lightly as he slept. She feared this shade, but… _damn it_. Apparently not enough to keep her fully distracted for long.

"But this orc is more. This orc… helped enslave us, he said." The voice was confused, but it held animosity also.

"Unknowingly." Her whisper was barely audible but the shade heard it anyway and stared as if waiting for her to continue, so she added, "The Light has blessed him." She knew it was true. The Light had blessed them both and granted them a great miracle.

"Yes, the Light," the thing hissed, and abruptly there were others pressing into the tiny space as if summoned by the single magic word. The misty, slim body of a woman melted through the wall; then another man, and Hyara couldn't be sure after that, the room was too small and the outlines too confused. She drew her legs tighter and her hooves scraped the floor. Galmak rustled, his hand patted the empty space at his side, and then suddenly he was awake and snarling. He sprang the few short paces to her side and it was almost too much for her feeble willpower to handle at that moment, but she squeezed her eyes shut and managed to shrink away before he touched her. He checked himself on the instant and she felt him immediately struggling for control, and then like water rushing from a dam to leave the lakebed dry, all her desperate, nigh-uncontrollable arousal drained away and she was fully herself again. She moaned in relief and buried her face against his shoulder for only a second before looking up to see the shades watching them in disconcerting silence. Galmak was still snarling with an alarming hint of red creeping into his eyes.

"What do you want to know about the Light?" she whispered unsteadily.

"Feel it," the first shade returned, and was echoed in hissing murmurs by the others.

She swallowed uncertainly, looking around at the nebulous crowd, and then remembered when she'd called on her Gift of the Naaru in the cave to heal Gink. The shade, possibly this very one, had talked of the Light then and had left her alone when she'd wielded it. They were curious, perhaps remembering the dusty residue of their past lives and wishing to feel again something of what they'd once known. She braced herself against the headache she knew would come and then raised her right hand. This time, instead of the stark blue-white of the arcane, a gold shimmer bloomed around her palm and grew slowly until it reached a steady brilliance. It was far weaker than it had been in the blessed cave, returned to the usual strength of her talents in the Light, but the shades murmured and then, to her alarm, pressed closer. Galmak snarled again and futilely moved his body protectively in front of her. It was an empty gesture, but somehow it stopped them.

"Away, orc," the first shade said coldly. "You bear the taint of your blood and are not fit to be blessed by the Light. She lies."

"It's not a lie," Hyara whispered low with a glance at the curtained door. Unlike her brother, the Light wouldn't lend her its aid indefinitely and she could already feel her grasp on it weakening. "All things live in the Light. You told me that yourself down in the temple."

"What is he saying to you?" Galmak asked very quietly without turning his eyes from the menace of the shades. Hyara noticed for the first time that they'd been speaking Draenei; of course he wouldn't be able to understand.

"They wanted to feel the Light," she responded in a breathy whisper, uncertain that it would be best just now for the things to hear her speak Orcish. And then to the shade in Draenei again, "Why are you still here in these ruins? Is what Var'kan said true, that you chose not to join with the Light after death?" The idea had turned her cold when she'd first heard it. Surely it couldn't be true? Some horrible force outside their control must have prevented them.

Silence and cold swirled around them and Hyara thought he wouldn't answer. A few murmurs susurrated in the darkness as if they came from the back of a crowd in a large hall, rather than a few feet away in a cramped room.

"The Light did not want us," the shade answered at last.

Hyara stared at him, brows drawn down in a frown and mouth slightly agape. "I don't understand. That's not possible. How could the Light not want to take you in after death? That's…" She shook her head slowly and watched as the gold radiance around her hand weakened and at last died to darkness. With the last spark gone, a shade somewhere beyond her seeing made a sound like a wail of wind and then they were all gone, all but the first one, as suddenly as they had appeared, melting back through the walls on a frigid breeze. She felt Galmak's mental and physical tension slacken somewhat and she realized she was gripping his hand hard enough to hurt her own. She eased her grip but didn't let go.

This time the shade didn't answer her question, but only hovered motionless except for the melting shimmer of his form against the stone wall beyond. She forced herself to stare at him and he stared right back with dead eyes that told her nothing. Galmak's bafflement with the conversation and fear at what might be going on over his head blended indistinguishably in her mind until she couldn't even get a handle on her own fear and confusion. Her head felt clouded. It was so cold and dark, the thing radiated so much rage and frustration. The room tipped and then she retched, her throat constricting as something else squeezed deeper inside her and choked her from the inside. Dark and cold, no warmth or light… no Light. There was no Light any longer. Desperately, she shuffled through her mind, searching for the warm, comforting glow she'd known since her first memories but had never really given anything but passing notice because of its omnipresence in her being. It was gone, leaving only cold vacuum in its place.

"You see," she dimly understood the shade to say, and then in an almost painful burst the warmth and the glow returned and she realized the Light had never really left, this thing hadn't the power to take it from her, he had only somehow masked it from her mind for a few eternally-long seconds. She was draped limply across Galmak's lap and he was growling something at her in a frantic tone. It took her mind an instant longer than usual to switch its track back to Orcish.

"Alright," she mumbled an affirmative, and lifted her head just in time to see the blue mist melt away. She heard Galmak feeling for the lamp in the pitch blackness and he managed to get the wick lit. She squinted at him in the relative brightness and now saw how red his eyes blazed to match the rage still rolling off him. After closing her eyes and taking a few deep, calming breaths, she told him what had happened before his worry could grow. He understood her panic all too well and held her close, carefully keeping control of the Shadow all the while he listened.

Neither one of them understood what had happened. Galmak could offer no reassurance and Hyara had no answers for herself. The shade had 'shown' her what it meant to be cut off from the Light, but she didn't see what it meant to her people's spirits here. They hadn't been cut off from the Light before they'd died, so why had they chosen to stay here after death, in isolation from the faith they'd lived with?

"Maybe they lost faith before they died," Galmak suggested gently after a while.

"No," Hyara said firmly with only a hint of the desperation she felt. "The Light is our birthright. We all know the truth of it, a whole village wouldn't have just… given up."

"No, draenei don't give up," he agreed, knowing full well that it was true. Such a long history of survival in the face of every horror, and what had brought them through it from the very beginning? Their faith in the Light. A village's defenders wouldn't have abandoned their sustaining values even in the face of eminent death; the very fact of their sacrifice proved that.

But it had happened somehow, and both Hyara and Galmak were at a loss to explain it.

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	36. III: A Reward

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A/N: This will hopefully be the last update before my baby makes his entrance. No worries about future updates, though; the story is all written and waiting. I'll find time to keep posting. Thanks for the nice reviews I've been getting!

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Teyagah was in an unusually good mood the next day, a state which Galmak didn't find reassuring. She laughed and she praised his progress less parsimoniously than usual; she largely refrained from her customary scornful remarks or looks at Hyara. Var'kan shared her relative merriment, perhaps simply because he enjoyed seeing his mate in a good mood, or perhaps for other, more sinister reasons. Galmak tried to treat the day no differently and stolidly ignored any praise or banter they tossed at him. In here at least they had comparative quiet from the slowly disappearing runes outside the village. Hyara found that, just as she'd hoped last night, her exhaustion caught up with her and she was able to doze in peace for an hour or so.

When she did open her eyes again, she found it was Teyagah's foot that had nudged her awake.

"You aren't learning control for yourself by being asleep, lazy girl," the undead laughed. "Growing fat too, I see, from sitting around here. Amazing what a difference a few weeks can make in that belly!"

Praying that Teyagah wouldn't recognize the sudden fear in her eyes, Hyara hugged her arms across her front and pulled a blanket over to cover herself. She dropped her head as if in shame, but she could feel the undead's inscrutable amber eyes still staring at her. Galmak growled a warning across the room and the undead snapped back at him, but she turned on her heel and left Hyara alone and inwardly shaking. Her suspicious, worrying mind wondered if there'd been more than the surface meaning to Teyagah's comment. But the undead didn't even bother shooting another smug glance at the downtrodden draenei on the floor, and Hyara relaxed again for the moment. That is, until she caught the meaningful look that passed between Teyagah and Var'kan, which had gone unnoticed by Galmak, wrapped as he was in concentration once more.

Before Hyara could speculate or worry about it, Var'kan spoke up.

"Sit down and rest for a moment, young brother."

Puzzled, Galmak pulled his attention back into the room to see Var'kan motioning him downward to the floor in the center of the room. It was only late morning and he seemed to be doing better under the strain today, a detail which surely hadn't escaped the undead's notice, but he shrugged to himself and took the break they offered. Only at that moment did he sense inexplicable worry from Hyara and he assessed Var'kan guardedly.

"Am I finally going to learn why I'm here?" he guessed.

Var'kan grinned. "Oh, you are here for exactly the reason we told you – to learn the art of the Shadow. That is one of our two primary objectives for you here."

"One of two." Galmak didn't like the sound of that.

"Later stages of our plan, whelp. You remember we spoke of those," Teyagah interjected.

"You have reached such a point that we believe a later stage can commence," Var'kan nodded.

"That being?" Galmak growled, not caring for their caginess. Were they going to tell him or weren't they? It was making him edgy, and Hyara too, by the feel of it.

Var'kan's one eye regarded him for several beats, his head cocked to one side and a half-grin curled around his yellowed tusks. Then he said, "I imagine you'll remember quite some time ago, young brother, when I ventured that you would see undeath as a punishment rather than a reward. We believe the time has come when that is no longer the case."

For a moment Galmak was so stunned that his reaction wasn't entirely rational, and he laughed. He glanced to his left at Hyara and found that she wasn't half as amused. "You can't be serious. You actually think I'd accept that now? What's changed in your minds, that you think I'd want that? Have we gotten chummier? Have you treated us better this time around and shown me what a fun time it is being undead?" It really _was_ funny. Couldn't Hyara see it? They couldn't possibly be serious; they _must_ be angling for something altogether different.

But Var'kan, and for a wonder, Teyagah too, only stared at him in patient silence and let him wind down. Now Galmak felt the full force of Hyara's horror rising inside him and knew that it was his own too. They were serious. They meant to turn him into one of them.

"Thanks, but I'll pass," he said with a sorry attempt at levity.

"I think you won't," Var'kan countered with another of his horrible grins. "Because you love her." He waved a hand in Hyara's direction and Galmak felt an odd chill.

"What are you talking about?" the young orc growled.

"I believe we also discussed a long time ago that undeath means a kind of immortality, and I pointed out what your own mortality means for her. It means that your life, in terms of hers, will be like what perhaps one year would be to you. And do you know what that means, young brother? It will mean one of two things: she will forget you almost utterly after you have died. What will these few brief decades mean to her a thousand years from now, or five thousand? She will go on, fall in love and mate again, have draenei children. Or if you don't care for that possibility, then here is the other: she will remember you all too well and live in misery and loneliness for millennia. Which of those alternatives would you prefer for her? Or you may choose immortality in undeath and neither of those possibilities need come to pass. It's a remarkable gift we're giving you here, the power to decide."

"In addition, your power will be all the greater," Teyagah added. "Living flesh constrains the Shadow in ways you needn't experience in undeath; our powers draw closer to those of even a few of the Legion's eredar like this."

Numbly, he tried to process what they said. Yes, he was being manipulated and he knew it. They were using Hyara, ironically, to attempt to convince him. He could feel her grief and terror across the room more loudly in his mind than he could hear her actual soft tears. The Shadow had long slipped out of his control but he could feel nothing but this new distress from her.

"Furthermore," Teyagah said softly, her voice like the hiss of a snake in his ears, "you have seen what this bond can do to her and I know you can feel her pain. There is no way to break it but one – your death could free her forever. Would you deny her that freedom when you have the power to grant it, whelp? Would you hold onto her selfishly to satisfy your perverted needs?"

"It wouldn't end there, though, would it?" Galmak snarled back. "You'd want my eternal devotion to the Legion. You wouldn't give me this 'gift' for no reason."

Var'kan waved a hand. "Perhaps. But then, perhaps not. I think that choice we would leave to you, young brother. Your power is too great to be wasted. If it takes you some years to come around to our way of thinking, we are willing to wait and take you when you are ready to come to us of your own accord. I think you will discover, though, that the Horde has little love for one of your considerable talent."

That they would leave the decision to him almost elicited a guffaw of disbelief. Why exactly did they want him as an undead, if it would make him so much more powerful? Did they still believe they'd be able to control him, or did they think they'd have him fully tamed by the time he'd finished his training? No, Galmak didn't think they'd bank on either of those wobbly solutions to a potentially big problem. On the contrary, he read a far more sinister explanation. Back in the cave in the Aerie Peaks, he remembered trying to reconcile this woman, Teyagah, with the grandmother his mother had told him about. She'd been strict and hard, brutal and bloodthirsty on many occasions, but Serlah had still spoken of her with love and grief at the loss. This woman did not match up, in many ways, with his grandmother. And the only reason for that that Galmak could come up with was that somehow undeath had changed her. This was exactly what they intended for him, and he sensed that they hoped his shock would chase any of these questions from his mind. They believed he would not be quite the same person when he awoke to his second life, that his goals and morals, in the course of whatever they would do to raise him, would somehow become aligned with their own. And how could he say it wasn't true?

"Galmak," came Hyara's voice tremulously from across the room. "If I have anything at all to do with this decision, then hear what I say now and don't let them do this to you. They don't know anything about us, love. Don't listen to their arguments."

He stared at her and their pain lanced along the bond like a bullet bouncing between them. He shook his head, turned back to the undead, but then Var'kan chuckled. Despite the laughter, there was a steel-hard set to the lines around his eyes.

"Don't think that she could not share your new life, young brother. Undeath would do nothing to quell your desire for her, if that's what you are worried about. But in addition… she could find a place of her own in the Legion, if you choose that path. I believe I mentioned before that a part-eredar was of interest to some? Yes. We are aware of a way by which the transformation could be completed. She would gain quite a new status among us, and doubtless you with her, I might add."

All Galmak could hear behind that was a horrible threat. Hyara audibly gulped a sob and covered her face with a hand. He clenched his teeth even as he forced his breathing to even out and the rest of his body to relax. "Do I have time to think about this?" he managed.

Now Teyagah showed her usual impatience with a growl and a petulant tap of her foot; Var'kan, on the other hand, gave one sharp nod.

"You will have some little time," he conceded. "Your training isn't complete, although we are ready, should you make the right decision. We will continue with your training for now."

After that, the day dragged along in a painful blur of Shadow magic and written runes, spoken and silent spells. His mind did its best to focus and remember, but his thoughts were tied by a short rope to the morning's revelations. They wanted him to die and they wanted to bring him back in service to the Burning Legion. They threatened him with guilt over Hyara's condition, sorrow for his short future with her, and fear of what they'd do to her if he didn't agree. And above all, what could he really do about it? They could decide to kill him any minute and he probably wouldn't be able to stop them. Then they'd raise him, and that would be that. He found himself thinking about the one hope that seemed to be left: the slowly disappearing runes outside the village.

His grandmother's patience, and her mood, had gone considerably downhill since he hadn't immediately embraced their offer. What had she expected, he wondered, as he made a better attempt at concentration just for the sake of pacifying her a little. She tended to take her frustration out verbally on Hyara in the form of occasional vicious little jabs or threats to modify the runes when she thought he wasn't trying in earnest. Today, though, Hyara didn't even seem to be hearing the insults, just as Galmak could barely scrape together any focus for his training. They discovered that they kept shooting looks at each other and exchanging little barbs of fear. How much time would he actually have before Teyagah ultimately lost patience, and would Var'kan keep her schedule or his own in deciding when enough was enough?

But he had to keep going, the reasons for that being clearer now than ever.

"No," Teyagah snapped at him when he stumbled over one of the words in a more complex incantation. "Even your little draenei whore would know that word. It is not so hard; barely even Demonic!"

Galmak snarled out the correct wording viciously this time and aimed the spell straight at her. The Shadow blasted violently outward from his hands and for a split second he wondered if Teyagah would survive it, but then, with a thunderous crack and an explosive burst of light that left him seeing ghost images for a few seconds, the energy of his cast splintered like a goblin rocket car running full speed into a stone wall. He staggered backward and fell, cursing the runes, only to look up to Teyagah's and Var'kan's laughter.

"A valiant effort, young brother," Var'kan chuckled as he shook his head in rueful amusement.

"Rather good, in fact," Teyagah said, rubbing salt in the wound.

Hyara felt like screaming at them. She slapped an angry palm against the floor and said with a murderous glare, "My people's spirits should have killed you when you came here, before you enslaved them!"

"Idiot girl," Teyagah laughed. "They couldn't have harmed a hare. They were weak and directionless when we arrived here, exactly as they were intended to be. Completely trapped in their own misery and utterly powerless. Even now, they will do nothing without our direct orders."

A few beats passed before Hyara ventured in confusion, "…As they were intended?"

"Of course. Why would we come here in particular, stupid girl? We knew what we came to find. We were in the army that killed these defenders, and we were in the group of warlocks assigned to make their downfall more painful and insulting. We kept them from dying in their precious Light. We bound their souls to this village."

Reaching to the table behind her, she lifted the lid of a polished wood box and plucked out a pebble very like the stones they'd used around the blood pool. This one, however, was covered in a dry cake of dirt. Hyara could faintly make out the bluish pulse of a rune below the grime.

"These were simply scattered throughout the village to entrap any draenei souls that died nearby," the undead continued, noting with malicious glee the look of anguish on Hyara's face. "We've had difficulty finding them all, but we have found most of them, I believe. Those we've found we can take wherever we wish outside the village, along with the companion runestones your mate supplied for us." She fingered the blue vial around her neck and snapped the lid shut on the box of stones.

"So that's how you plan on moving your army," Galmak said grimly, and Var'kan shrugged.

"Perhaps when we are ready," he answered noncommittally.

Desperate fury burst so suddenly in Hyara's mind that Galmak didn't even recognize it until she was already moving. With a cry, she shot up from her nest of pillows and sprang across the room toward Teyagah. Unbalanced by the suddenness of an attack from an unexpected direction, the undead threw up her hands at the last minute and managed to catch Hyara by a horn before she could be bowled to the ground. Sharp fingernails sliced down Teyagah's pallid face and drew three beaded lines of black fluid. The undead screeched, more a sound of enraged annoyance than of pain, and twisted her body barely in time to avoid a kick from a razor-edged hoof. By this time Var'kan's smooth façade had cracked and Galmak felt the hiss and lick of a spell welling into the undead's hands. He threw himself into the fray with a roar at his mate, in the way of Var'kan's anticipated cast.

Teyagah, however, had only taken a few brief seconds to come to herself. With unnatural strength, she shoved Galmak off balance and sent him to the ground for the second time in a few minutes, grabbed Hyara's other horn, then slid out a foot with lightning speed and kicked the much taller draenei's hooves out from under her. Hyara thumped jarringly to the stone floor on her tail, wheezing for breath and holding her belly.

Teyagah, still gripping the draenei by her horns, looked calmly to her mate. "No magic," she said coolly. Reluctantly, with his one eye narrowed to a burning slit, Var'kan let the spell drain away and lowered his hands. Galmak scrambled to Hyara's side.

"Let her go," he snarled.

Teyagah held the horns a few more seconds with an unfathomable look at her grandson, then slowly removed her hands and stepped back. She touched her fingers to her cheek and wiped at the oozing fluid. Already the pallid green skin beneath had begun to knit with dark magic. She stared down at Hyara coldly and her fingers seemed oddly stiff at her sides, as if she held them so to keep her fists from clenching.

"Get back to your corner, you disgusting, hoofed animal, and do not interfere again. Your kind calls us barbaric beasts, but I have seen you in the heat of battle too. My mate's blood stained the ground as dark as any draenei's blood." She paused, and Hyara, regaining her breath now, marveled to see the undead face mottled dark with emotion just as any living face would be. Teyagah leaned close and gathered the front of Hyara's shirt in an uncanny grip. "Think what other lives you endanger," she hissed, then hauled the draenei up and tossed her backward like a doll.

They left Galmak alone for a while afterward. Hyara cried into his shoulder very quietly, although she wanted to howl and rage at their entire situation. She was furious at the undead, who had conspired to torment her people even after they'd been massacred, and furious at herself for losing control and taking a hot iron to the thin ice they already walked on. She was furious too for her tears now and the weakness they showed to utterly unsympathetic beings.

By this time, Galmak had found that he was simply very tired and a little numb. They were at the end of the line, backed into a tight corner once again. Something had to be done and he was the only one to do the job. Hyara and the twins depended on him.

"Love, I'm going to sleep while I can," he whispered gently. She was quiet now and only nodded against his shoulder. Shifting to rest his head on a pillow, he closed his eyes. The ancestors favored him today and he fell almost instantly into deep sleep.

***

It was his turn to be rudely prodded awake by Teyagah's foot.

"It's time for you to be walked and fed," she sneered as he opened his eyes with a yawn. Hyara was awake and sitting with her knees hugged tightly, staring across the room and pretending as if Teyagah were nowhere nearby. Var'kan was gone from the room again and Galmak wondered if he might be out hobbling through the village in search of more of the shades' old binding runestones. He stood, helped Hyara up, and then something made him look Teyagah in the eye. For a few seconds he searched her face, realizing that he was almost desperate to find something of the woman she might once have been, the woman his mother had known so many years ago, who had given her life for the slim chance that her daughter might escape the misery of the internment camps. But he saw only the usual glare and the lips thinned by cruelty; the amber eyes had once been brown like his own but the old expressiveness was long gone, replaced by the fathomless yellow glow.

"Was it death that made you so bitter, Grandmother?" he asked, not knowing what made him say it since it would probably only enrage her. He dropped his eyes again and headed for the door where Lahgga or Jas'ka would be waiting outside to take them into the ruins.

But a steely grip caught his arm and he stiffened against an attack as he turned around again. Teyagah's eyes blazed steadily at him. Her fingers relaxed, then fell away. "Not death," she spat. "There is no harm in dying when the time is right." She strode forward and flung open the door, then barked down the hallway as Jas'ka appeared to herd them outside.

Just as he'd feared and hoped, the Shadow howled stronger than ever through his mind as he stepped from the room. He was ready for the onslaught and swept it swiftly into his mental grip before Hyara had even come out of the room behind him. He was afraid to gauge the power of it today, afraid he might lose his grip and then everything, including their one chance at escape, would be lost, but he tentatively tested the feel of the magic. It coursed through him in a barely manageable flood, dark and cold, wearing relentlessly at the strong but ductile walls he'd learned to build in his head. He sensed that there was very little standing between him and full power now; Palla and Gink must have accumulated quite a pile of runes by this time, perhaps had even stepped up their collection. _Only a few more_, he urged his wolf, even though she couldn't hear him at this distance. _Maybe two more nights_. He'd have no choice but to try then anyway. Their time was almost up.

Hyara led the way to their customary distance from the sentry tauren and troll – not too far, but far enough that they would have some privacy for a conversation – and sat on the stump of a fallen wall with her back turned to their prison. Her eyes, blank with absence from the narrow world they'd inhabited for too long now, traced the familiar view of the village spread before them down the short stretch of terraced stone.

"I need you to be ready any day now," he said quietly. He didn't sit but he brushed her long hair aside and laid a hand on the nape of her neck. He stroked his fingers gently down the delicate tendrils behind her ears, fearing the weary numbness he felt in her.

She nodded, let her head droop. Her voice was very small and tired when it finally came out. "I'll be ready for whatever happens. I only wish the twins could be born already and safe back with Kereth at Karkun Kamil. Galmak… what do you think will happen to them if… if I die here."

"You're not going to die, love."

She barely seemed to hear him. "They're half-draenei. I don't know where they'd go."

Then he realized what she meant and his legs felt a little weak. He finally sat beside her. "They wouldn't stay," he promised earnestly, and prayed his hardest that it was the truth.

"But I would," she said, and smiled faintly. "At least you could come visit me. Then maybe someday you'd find my rune…" She was crying silently, tears sliding down her cheeks in droplets turned green by the sickly light. "Here. Maybe this is it." Into his palm she pressed a dirty black stone, rough, flat, and rounded at the edges with the weak but unmistakable shimmer of magical lines etched below the grit of decades. He stared at it and realized she must have picked it from some cranny in the wall they were sitting on. There was no knowing how many of the things might still be scattered throughout the ruins, or how many hadn't yet found a draenei soul to keep them company.

"You are not going to die," he repeated in a rumbling growl and folded her inside the protection of his arms.

But the words seemed to hang in the air afterward and wouldn't leave his mind in peace.

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	37. III: Considering the Unthinkable

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**A/N**: Whew, finally a moment to myself. Babies are more time-consuming than you'd ever know until you have one. :P Sorry I haven't been able to respond much to reviews lately - it's all I can do sometimes to spend two seconds checking my email. I still really appreciate hearing from you all!

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Olkhor felt dumber than he had in a long time. He felt like a damn whelpling gazing goggle-eyed at a wrapped present during Winter Veil, hoping that if he stared hard enough it might contain exactly what he wanted most. But those gods-blasted ruins were not doing anything new today, just as they hadn't for the past few days now. Either Galmak was having a pleasant vacation in there and didn't feel like coming home yet, or the animals still had a shitload more runes to find. Or the whole theory was bogus and he and the meatheaded ogre might as well have been taking knitting lessons the past week for all the good they'd been doing here. Olkhor snarled his frustration and kicked at a tree root as he turned away from his vigil.

They'd moved camp a few days ago, once he'd judged the pile of runes must be pretty large, even by Teyagah's standards. He couldn't imagine even such an obsessive woman wouldn't have her limits – the animals had excavated probably a dozen dozen of the damn things by now. And so he and Chu'thog had moved closer, theoretically ready to respond and help if something unusual began to happen in the village. Unusual was not happening, though.

Or at least it wasn't until the tauren decided to come out just a little further than usual looking for firewood.

Olkhor was just sitting down to some lunch when the damp breeze brought a new smell to his nose. He turned his face to the wind and sniffed, and immediately recognized the peculiar musty, heavy odor of tauren, closer than ever. With a subsonic growl he motioned to Chu'thog and the two of them rose silently to move away into the brush.

Lahgga had gone east today in search of dry wood. He'd been forced to range a little further, having already picked clean the closer sources around the village. The store he'd built up was running low and it was time to find a little more dry wood for immediate use and several bundles of damper wood to dry out for the future. With a quick, shimmering cast of magic, he'd slipped into his feline form as he left the village and set off into the trees.

With a silent jerk of a finger, Olkhor pointed through the mid-day gloom. It was definitely the tauren they'd seen in the ruins on many occasions. He was snapping a dead bush's branches with powerful, almost absent-minded movements and piling the wood in a rope sling nearby. Olkhor pointed to Chu'thog's spear, pointed to the tauren, and wrapped a hand around his own upper arm. The ogre followed the movements carefully, grinned and nodded.

The spear, like its owner, was surprisingly silent for its size. With a mighty heave, Chu'thog sent it flying through the air with barely a whistle. Olkhor, however, gave a whistle of appreciation as the glinting tip buried itself with amazing precision right in the tauren's upper arm. Lahgga roared in pain and alarm; Olkhor and Chu'thog charged forward. The ogre tackled the tauren and sent him thudding to the ground with the wind knocked out of him, and Lahgga's roar died in an undignified squeak. Olkhor seized the spear at the middle and held it as it was, still stuck deep in the tauren's arm.

"Who…" Lahgga managed to wheeze out. He groaned and tried to reach for the spear, but Olkhor tightened his grip and let the blade sink just a hair deeper. Lahgga tried to howl until Chu'thog wrapped an enormous hand around his snout.

"Would love to take this out, since you seem to hate it so much," Olkhor growled with a trace of a feral grin, "but then I think you'd end up as a cat and try to get away from us."

"You'll bleed me out and I can't tell you anything dead," the tauren groaned.

"Don't think so." Olkhor examined the wound with exaggerated concern. "It's not that bad. Guess I could replace it with my axe in your leg if you'd rather."

"If you're wanting to know about that place, I can't tell you much. Just got hired for a job on Azeroth, is all. Some undead… assumed they were Scourge. You don't ask too many questions in my business or you wind up dead."

"I smell a stinking kettle of bullshit," Olkhor said with glee. "And anyway… what do you think, Chu'thog, do we care much what he has to tell us about this, or would we rather smash heads?"

"Smash heads!" Chu'thog roared, before Olkhor growled at him to keep quiet so close to the ruins.

Lahgga was wheezing with pain by now and his blood was beginning to stain the ground. Olkhor stepped over to the pile of firewood, dumped it out of the sling, and handed the ropes to Chu'thog to break apart into ties for the huge tauren. He wasn't sure if the ties would keep Lahgga from taking on his stealthy cat form forever, but they would probably make it more difficult and painful. It should be long enough, anyway, to get something set up that might work a little better.

"Tie him and come back over," he said to the ogre, then headed back to the camp. Once there, he grabbed several handfuls of runestones off the pile and began arranging them in a circle about ten paces in diameter. He examined his handiwork and added a few more to the circle just as Chu'thog trundled into view, the tauren resting like a giant, very disgruntled baby in his arms. Olkhor pointed to the circle and Chu'thog laughed.

"You smart," the ogre praised. Olkhor grunted.

"Shit," Lahgga commented at the sight of the rune circle, and now Olkhor was satisfied that he could agree with Chu'thog. The trussed tauren bucked futilely as the ogre dumped him inside the circle.

"I guess you know what these are," Olkhor remarked dryly, pointing at the stones, "and who made them. I also guess you know they're not very friendly to people who try to use magic inside them." He had no idea if that were strictly true – the runes might only be tuned to keep Galmak from using magic. It was unlikely Lahgga knew any more about them than Olkhor did, however, and he would certainly know that anything Var'kan and Teyagah had a hand in was bound to be nasty.

The tauren stared at him with a sullen, angry eye. "What do you want to know?" he finally snarled.

"Are the orc and the draenei still in decent shape in there?"

A glare and a snort. "For now."

"Is that…" Olkhor let out a particularly foul and inventive string of curses, finally running up to, "…damned troll still in the village?"

Lahgga nodded grudgingly.

"Alright." The orc jerked his head at Chu'thog and they stepped away through the bushes so they could speak privately. "Move, and you'll run into his spear again," Olkhor called back over his shoulder. Chu'thog grinned widely and twirled the huge spear for emphasis.

"What we do now?" the ogre asked.

Olkhor gazed thoughtfully through the trees toward the nearby ruins for a moment before he answered, "Nothing again. More waiting."

"What…" It was almost a whine, and the orc smiled sourly.

"Think, meathead. That idiot confirmed our theory about the runestones. Galmak's getting stronger, but he's got to be good and ready before he makes a move. Only one chance, see. But now we've taken out one of their problems for them. Kitty-cow is here trussed up like a turkey and not going anywhere. That leaves the undead, which Galmak'll have to deal with anyway, and then just that gods-damned troll. The shades, of course; dunno how he plans on handling that. But still, one less problem for them."

Chu'thog considered this for a moment and then nodded with some disappointment. "You right. We smash heads later, at the signal."

"Exactly. The animals'll help us guard that goon in the meantime. We just have to make sure he stays tied inside that circle and doesn't yell too loud."

* * *

"Why did you keep silent until now?"

Var'kan's voice was flat but the anger on his face was unmistakable. Jas'ka lowered his eyes and slumped his shoulders.

"Thought 'ee'd come back. 'Ee been out a thousan' times fo' firewood an' meat."

Teyagah's arms were crossed; one foot tapped impatiently at the floor and her eyes were narrowed in scorn. "Coward. You are afraid of taking the blame since he was your suggestion. Why didn't you go with him?"

"He was just paid a few days ago," Var'kan commented. "A mercenary. Perhaps we got just what we paid for."

"Ah wouldn' go wit' a deserter, Ah serve da Horde wit' pride!" The troll managed a little defiance, but it died quickly at the look on Teyagah's face and turned to sullenness. "Ah know Lahgga an 'ee wouldn'ta run off. Lahgga finishes 'is jobs."

"Then perhaps he'll still come back and finish," Var'kan said with a dangerous glint in his eye. "Until then, you will be on double watch. We will deal with him later, once our business is concluded here."

Jas'ka drew himself up and saluted with a sulky scrap of dignity. He disappeared back down the corridor, muttering, before the door clicked shut behind him.

Hyara had watched the exchange with a touch of malicious amusement. She couldn't decide which was more likely: Lahgga really was the capricious, greedy bastard his mercenary background would suggest, or Olkhor was trying yet another tack to help them out of here. It was also a bonus to see Var'kan and Teyagah both looking sourer than usual because of someone besides herself and Galmak. The smirk left her face, however, when she heard the next thing that came out of Galmak's mouth.

"No brilliant ideas of escape, whelp," Teyagah said with a glare. "We will be watching you as closely as ever."

But Galmak barely seemed to hear the comment. He was staring across the room with a faint frown, half lost in thought, and then he opened his mouth and asked hesitantly, "What's involved in becoming undead?"

Their captors traded a fleeting, expressionless glance. Hyara could barely believe her ears.

"For the person undergoing the process, very little," Var'kan replied neutrally, perhaps also not daring to believe what he'd heard. "All the preparation is done by those performing the ritual. It is relatively painless. Even the death need not be painful."

Hyara thought she saw Teyagah's mouth quirk at some part of Var'kan's explanation. The draenei shivered involuntarily and stared at her husband, willing his mind to open to her and disclose what he was thinking. But she couldn't sense much of any emotion from him. He was calm as a forest pond and just as unreadable below the surface.

Galmak paused for a moment in thought and then took a breath like a diver before the plunge. "How does the immortality work? What makes you so sure you're immortal?"

It was obvious now that Var'kan had made up his mind to tread very lightly, as if he feared scaring away this new and skittish curiosity. He took a seat heavily on one of the room's chairs and made a motion for Galmak to sit also. The young orc sat obediently, while Teyagah continued to hover in front of him with her unfathomable gaze boring into the top of her pupil's head. Hyara knew he could feel her fear and confusion because she was feeling something besides calm from him now – it was the sensation of a gentle but firm and impatient push against her mind. He wanted her to stay out of this. He wanted to ask these questions and hear the answers without her input. And she absolutely didn't want that.

She finally found her voice, although she felt as if there were a rock lodged in her throat. "Galmak. You don't need to hear any of this. Please don't listen to them."

He didn't even look her direction. She saw the unmistakable gleam of triumph in Var'kan's eye and the horrible grin cracked his face. He answered Galmak as if she'd never spoken.

"For one, young brother, the undead body does not age in the way a living body does. Teyagah and I look today exactly as we did the day we died, decades ago, aside from a few recent casualties on my part, of course." He chuckled and waved a hand at the stump of his left ankle. "And instead of biological healing, which in many cases is a very time- and energy-consuming process, our bodies are replenished by magical regeneration. The energy our bodies draw upon is outside ourselves and limitless. Of course, once again, there are some injuries which are unhealable or even fatal. A missing or very badly mangled foot will not regrow, even for us, nor will a missing eye. But you have seen that there are nonetheless many injuries we can simply shrug off which a living body could not endure; I believe you'll remember when you put a knife through my chest."

He said it merely conversationally, a simple reminder of an inconsequential incident, and Galmak only nodded. Galmak's expression had shifted subtly and Hyara's stomach tingled unpleasantly as she recognized cautious but growing interest in him.

"And so," Var'kan continued, "without aging or decay or susceptibility to all the usual injuries comes a form of immortality. Rather different, of course, from your mate's variety, since hers is not truly immortality but extreme longevity. She will grow old some very far off day; an undead such as us will not, but will simply continue until stopped in his tracks by some outside force. Our bodies do not betray us, you see."

"I haven't heard that the Forsaken are particularly immortal. Maybe a little longer lived, but I've seen what starts to happen to them after they've been around a while. What's so special about you compared to them?"

"They are very different, whelp," Teyagah said with a sniff. "They were raised by crude means, with methods meant for the masses. They were never intended to retain any of the characteristics they have been able to regain with their freedom from the Scourge. Our process is entirely different, and magically based. The people raised through our means have always – _always_ – been intended to retain their minds, their individual wills, and their powers before death. Our undeath was meant to strengthen, not to turn us to automatons."

"And they do retain all those things. Every time? There's nothing… nothing unexpected?" He showed a trace of uneasiness now along with his guarded enthusiasm, although to his wife he seemed inwardly very calm still.

"Never anything unexpected when someone such as myself or your grandmother is performing the ritual," Var'kan reassured. His voice was almost warm now and Hyara could smell his triumph across the room. It made her seethe, the way he believed he'd won, or nearly so. Galmak wasn't serious, not at all, not… not yet.

She tried again, feeling slightly more desperate than last time. Even hearing him talk about it set her stomach twisting. "Love, why are you–"

"Hyara, I want to hear about this," he growled. His voice was gentle but he was unmistakably annoyed.

The rebuke, however mild, stung; they were so rarely at odds with each other, and even less often about anything that mattered much. "Not on my account," she said. "I'd rather have a half dozen decades with you as you were meant to be than have you twist yourself like– like _them_."

It hurt them both as soon as she'd said it, but Light help her, it was the right thing to say. He didn't need this. She loved him and they'd both known what they were in for from the beginning.

He stared at her, and her heart felt like breaking at the sadness she saw in his brown eyes. "You're not the one who's going to die after those half dozen decades," he said softly.

***

The day was finished finally, after several more excruciating hours. Jas'ka was in a particularly bad mood and had practically kicked them back into their prison room. Hyara rearranged the blankets and pillows and then laid down with her face to the wall.

She wanted nothing more than to talk to her mate and find out what in hells he was thinking, while at the same time she didn't want to say a single word to him. What _was_ he thinking? He couldn't make himself suffer like that, couldn't be thinking of making her crazy with worry. He couldn't possibly believe he'd hit upon the best way to be a father to their twins, by allowing those two to kill him and then transform him into… _that_. It was unspeakable.

"Hyara," he said quietly, and tonight she heard barely a trace of the strain in his voice that she'd grown used to hearing when he held the Shadow under control. "Please listen to me a moment." He laid down at her back and nestled his warm body against hers. She didn't pull away. "Try to forget about anything I said in there. I'm sorry I had to do that to you, love, but it seemed like the best way."

"Now what are you talking about?" she choked. "I hardly knew what I was hearing. I didn't think you'd ever consider…"

"No. I needed to do that because… well, because of your blow-up with Teyagah, frankly."

She squirmed over to her other side and faced him in disbelief. "You… _rat_. You made me think…" She was flushed with the beginnings of outrage, an expression he'd always found particularly alluring on her, and he couldn't resist flashing a devilish grin.

He sobered quickly, though. "Love, I'm sorry. We're so short on time now, and more so after you lost your temper. What I said in there might have bought us another day or so; I don't know. They convinced me to embrace Shadow magic because it was the only thing I could do, and I'm counting on them believing they can do the same with this. Showing some interest might head them off from taking a more drastic approach. But it had to be believable, do you see? It wouldn't have been if you'd shown any other reaction but what you did. I'm so sorry it had to be that way."

It was an achy, sick relief she felt. He didn't mean it, and that was good. It was good that he was still resigned to die thousands of years before she would. Gods, why did they need to get these awful reminders once in a while? She nuzzled her face against his chest and smeared her tears across his dirty shirt front.

"So let me guess," she said, voice muffled and stuffy. "By tomorrow morning we've argued and I've cried my eyes out, but you've stayed stubborn and it's made you more determined than ever to hear more about it. And I just sit there looking woebegone and despairing, but more or less reconciled to it since it's what you seem to want."

"Yes," he said gently. "That's the idea. And meanwhile more runes disappear, providing Palla and Gink can find any more. We're very close, love. But I need a little longer to be as sure as I can. Ancestors know I'm uncertain enough, and I'll only get the one chance."

They made love tenderly that night, savoring it more than ever for the pain they'd felt that day, and each trying not to think that it could be their last time. When they'd finally exhausted each other they fell asleep on the floor, not even bothering to care that Jas'ka had been listening from behind the curtain. But Hyara filed the information away with her brain already working at a way to use the troll's perverted interest.

Unusually, they awoke early the next morning to Teyagah's voice snapping something at Jas'ka, and then the curtain whipped aside and she clapped her hands impatiently for them to get up. They shrugged off their sleepiness as Galmak grabbed his pile of books and Hyara her pillows, and then they were being hustled toward the next room to begin another day. Galmak noted that Lahgga was still absent, Jas'ka eyeing them malevolently from his seat at the fireside. The troll's eyes lingered perhaps a little too long on Hyara, and Galmak bared his tusks in a warning snarl as he disappeared into the back room.

"Have you made progress with the books?" Var'kan asked immediately.

Galmak nodded with some reluctance. "It's not as hard as I thought it'd be. I've worked through the first few."

"Of course it isn't, when you are learning the other knowledge that goes with it," Teyagah sniffed. "No doubt your stubborn mother put all sorts of ridiculous ideas in your head about it being too hard."

"She didn't put any ideas at all in my head about learning Demonic," he shot back with a glare. "She gave it all up, did you know that? She hasn't used her abilities as a warlock in years. Maybe a half a dozen times since I was born, and only when she had no other choice. She despises it and she never would have wanted that path for her son if there'd been any other way. Everything you taught her, if you taught her anything at all, has gone for nothing for more than twenty years now." He was on a roll and didn't feel like stopping. Was there anything that could bring Teyagah down a peg? The desire to hurt her emotionally was suddenly very strong. "And do you know what else? I wasn't a shaman more than a few months at most. I never cared for hiding behind magic when I fought. I've been a hunter all my life, just like my father."

For a moment he thought he'd achieved his goal. She was staring at him with open incredulity; about which revelation, he couldn't be sure. But then she laughed, and it was his turn to wonder – the laughter sounded genuine, open and mirthful, with no hint of scorn or irony.

"She did, did she? Stubborn girl, indeed. She threatened she would. I remember that last year… she had lost faith in our cause, even in the face of the humans' brutality. She continued for a time, but there was no heart in it, a mere defensive reflex. She swore she would give it up the first real chance she got, and now you say she has done it all these years. My strong, ridiculous daughter." Her smile was all pride and it made her features more beautiful. With a wrench of his stomach, Galmak realized that at this moment only the eyes looked undead. Here was the grandmother he'd never known.

And then it melted away, her face twisted again in the bitter scorn she seemed always to wear. "Tell your slave to sit," she spat. "She is gaping like an idiot Lost One." Teyagah spun away and stalked to a far corner where she made herself busy with some cryptic task, leaving Var'kan to take over. But he was staring at Teyagah too with some inscrutable look on his face and it was a few awkward seconds before he seemed to come to himself again.

"I trust you have considered further our conversation from yesterday," he said finally.

"I have," Galmak answered and allowed his eyes to grow hard with stubbornness and shift for an instant toward Hyara. Var'kan wouldn't have missed that look. "I want to hear about what's involved, specifically. I know you said there was nothing for your subject to do, but I want to hear about it anyway."

"Hmm, understandable, I suppose," the undead mused after a careful pause. He dragged a chair closer and sat. Galmak wondered suddenly at the gesture. Did Var'kan tire, undead though he was, standing with only the iron cane to lean on, or was it merely habit to sit?

The undead pursed his lips and nodded as if squaring something in his mind, then began.

"We began the process of preparation weeks ago. Months ago, really, if you count all the items we brought from Azeroth. There are many things involved beyond the magic we use. Jas'ka was instrumental in procuring some of the items for us, since our mobility, even on Azeroth, tends to be rather limited. There are not many places that welcome undead of our particular provenance, as you can imagine. You have seen our preparation of these powders–" He motioned to the work benches around the room, "–which we will use in the ritual. They are, of course, magically infused. With many of them, the balance is very delicate and the preparation extremely difficult to obtain the best results. There, you are lucky; Teyagah and I are highly skilled in all aspects of necromancy. There are runes involved as well, and spoken spells."

Galmak tried to keep the impatience from his voice. "And how does it all fit together?"

Var'kan narrowed his good eye and gazed imperiously at the young orc for a few seconds, obviously not caring for the interruption. He continued, ignoring the question, "As I said before, there need be nothing special about the death. Of course, there can be, if the person prefers it. Several of our fellows in the Aerie Peaks were reanimated that way in our village, as was I, in fact, before them. But the manner of death may be completely mundane, as long as any violence does not destroy the vital systems. The main one of which is the head, as you can imagine, with another being the heart, which you might be surprised to learn, young brother."

At this he paused and seemed to be inviting a comment. Galmak only raised a questioning eyebrow, which seemed good enough for Var'kan.

"The heart is still important for circulating magic in our bodies. You have seen that we don't have blood in your sense, but we do still depend on magical fluid in our veins, to an extent. A damaged heart in one to be raised can be repaired, as long as the damage isn't too extensive. But a destroyed or missing heart complicates things a great deal.

"And so, once the death has been achieved, the body is laid out and carefully prepared with the magical substances. The runes are scribed just so – it is very specific to each person – and the preliminary spells are cast. The process often takes longer the longer the person has been dead. It is always painstaking, regardless. The final spells are cast when the last, and most important, runes are scribed and activated. And then the ceremony is complete. The magic does its work and we welcome another into unlife."

Silence settled for a moment, with Galmak appearing deep in thought. There was the occasional stifled gulp or sniffle from Hyara across the room. Her mate could tell her distress was genuine even despite their conversation of the night before and he regretted that he could only send a little reassurance through their bond.

"Quite simple," Var'kan prodded with a glitter of impatience in his eye.

Galmak nodded slowly, though it didn't sound particularly simple to him and Var'kan had most certainly left out the useful details. "For me, at least," he agreed. It was the first admission, from either of them, that any of the conversation actually referred to him. That fact apparently wasn't lost on the undead and he smiled twistedly. "And," the young orc continued, "I'm to take it that you came here prepared, with just this in mind? You have everything ready?" He looked up and glared. "Don't take this as immediate acceptance. I want to know better what happens to Hyara afterward. What happens to the two of us together."

Var'kan coughed. It was an incongruous sound, as if he were masking a chuckle. "You may decide what happens to her. As I mentioned, there may be a way to complete her transformation to full eredar if you wish. If not, then you may keep her on as she is. What more is there to know?"

"Will my feelings for her change." His voice was very quiet and very firm. His brown eyes bored into the undead's.

Var'kan was unfazed. "I think, from what I have seen, it is more a question of what _her_ feelings will do. She has made it clear she disapproves, young brother. You may find that her love collapses under such pressure. I suppose even under those conditions you could still keep her, but I imagine the arrangement would be… less satisfactory."

Galmak was inclined to just go on and let him dodge the question under the circumstances. There were a few other things he desperately wanted to know. "I remember you said that before about her transformation. What do you mean, you know how it could be completed?"

"_Might_," Var'kan corrected with a thin smile. "There are certainly ways on Legion worlds, but I expect that is far more trouble than anyone is willing to go to. There might be a way closer to home. Should you join us, we will look into it, that I promise. Really, there is no need to worry over your mate in all this. She will be taken care of, not least of all by you. And you will finally have far greater power to take care of her."

There was no end to Var'kan's evasiveness. Galmak snarled inwardly and sent a silent string of foul language at the undead as he resumed his feet for the next round of training. When lunchtime came around, he looked over to see Hyara sitting as usual against the wall with her face buried between her knees. At the customary signal from the undead, Galmak contained the roiling Shadow and sauntered over to collect her for their midday break.

"Bring one of your books," she hissed as he knelt at her side. "We're getting out _now_."

* * *


	38. III: The Problem with Plans

* * *

"Bring one of your books," Hyara hissed as Galmak knelt at her side. "We're getting out _now_."

He was thankful his back was turned to the room and neither Var'kan nor his grandmother could see the startled look on his face. But he had to leave his questions; Var'kan was scraping his way over to prod them out the door with Jas'ka. Hyara rose a little creakily to her hooves and he saw that her eyes were blue and puffy with tears.

"Now, what's this about," he murmured once the door was safely shut behind them and Jas'ka was following at his usual several lazy paces.

She hesitated a few seconds, then said in a voice so low he could barely make it out, "You're convinced, as far as they're concerned. All it takes now is a knife in your chest. You know they won't even tell you when they're going to do it. You've never had a real choice, but now their last incentive to wait is gone. You _have_ to be ready now, love, today."

He growled low, realizing she was probably right. Time was up and this was it. Could he do it? Was he ready? The vague plan he'd been mulling over for days felt suddenly very meager and sickly in his mind.

"Find a spot and read your book," she whispered almost inaudibly as they passed into the courtyard outside the building. "I'm going to get rid of Jas'ka. Don't follow. I won't be alone."

He caught the tiny smile, the gleam of restrained and fearful excitement in her eyes and his stomach twisted with terrible unease, but he did as she said and found a seat on a boulder a dozen or so yards from the doorway. Hyara hovered nearby, stretching her long legs and gazing around dispiritedly at the forest's noonday gloom. Preoccupied as he was with the appearance of reading his book, it took him a moment to realize exactly what she was doing and the result of it. He frowned ferociously at the page even as his eyes darted, under cover of his lashes, between his mate and the troll nearby watching them. Or watching her, rather. Jas'ka's eyes were all over her. Hyara looked oblivious to it, in fact looked utterly downtrodden and vulnerable. Clearly that was her aim, but Galmak had to close his eyes and count slowly to ten to keep the red from creeping into them and keep his hands off Jas'ka's throat.

"Be back in a minute," she finally sighed, loudly enough for the troll to hear, and trudged slowly toward a cluster of high, standing walls across the courtyard. Galmak gave a short nod, not looking up from his book, and summoned all his willpower to pretend not to notice when Jas'ka sauntered casually after her.

She could handle one troll by herself. She wouldn't be alone, she'd said anyway. Gink must be here somewhere. Oh gods, if anything happened he'd put the knife through his chest himself, but he had a decision to make and his attention had to be elsewhere. With a soft thump, he dropped the book to the stone at his side and, hesitantly at first, began winding into his control the cold, thrashing river of power. It was thunderous in his mind. More runes were gone today; for all he could tell, there might not be a single one left. Their one attempt was now or never. The hesitancy melted away with a hiss, the dam crashed down with a roar, and the Shadow flooded through him in a black torrent.

***

The trees were shedding sparse, dripping moisture on the stone of the ruins, turning the soft grey to a slick charcoal. The canopy's endless drizzle of light fell along with the droplets before it winked out, setting the moisture glimmering like a bombarding swarm of insects bent on diving into the forest floor. Hyara trudged across the wet stone with her head hung low and noticed none of the forest's surreal beauty. Her stomach jumped and fluttered as if the twins were already kicking her, but she knew that wasn't the case. That would have been a welcome sensation. This was not.

As soon as she rounded the wall, she knew Jas'ka would appear any second. She'd heard his slithering gait and could feel his wily, eager presence behind her. Quickly, she grabbed up a fist-sized chunk of stone and flattened herself into the crook of a curved wall. Any second.

But more than a few seconds passed and when she stretched her senses outward, she couldn't feel the troll anymore. _Shit_. He must have–

With a whisper of air, he materialized at her side and a dagger flashed to her throat, stopping just short of drawing blood. She swallowed involuntarily against the pressure and then felt the sting of the metal.

"Yah sly, like ole Jas'ka," the troll whispered caressingly, his lips pressed close to her ear, and let the dagger trail lightly down her front until it bit the neckline of her linen shirt. There was barely a sound as the blade sliced very slowly through the threads. "Drop yah rock now, girly. Ah wouldn' wan' mah knife ta slip an' cut dat soft skin."

His other hand closed around the base of her tail and he yanked her backward against his body. With a wild heave, Hyara brought the rock flying upward toward his face. Jas'ka ducked nimbly but in those few seconds the knife wavered. She grabbed his wrist and twisted even as his other hand caught her hand with the stone and squeezed brutally, forcing her fingers open and the heavy stone to the ground with a sharp crack. She shifted her weight, kicked hard, and connected with a thigh. The troll grunted in pain, but rather than weaken him it seemed to infuriate him. He hurled her hard against the wall and for a few seconds her head rung when a horn dashed against stone.

Breathing hard and trying to regain her balance while also holding her belly protectively, she slid away from him along the wall until he grabbed her again and pressed the icy line of the knife blade against her chest. He forced his face close, shoving her backward, and his black eyes blazed with a horrible look she'd seen before in a different set of eyes.

"Yah life's not important ta dem," he spat in her face. "Ah kill yah when Ah'm done an' dey won' care, yah tailed bitch. How 'bout Ah kill yah whelps now if yah don' cooperate?"

"Please," she wheezed. "Just don't hurt them. I won't even say anything to anyone."

"Yah makin' it too easy ta want ta kill yah," Jas'ka hissed back and let the knife point dig into the hollow at the base of her neck.

She shook her head in terror and a low moan escaped her. Months ago, this close-quarters fight against a skilled rogue would have been a deadly challenge. Now she only wanted it to end somehow, in whatever way would keep her babies safe. Light help her, she could see now that she'd badly misgauged, her plans had been flawed, she'd still been thinking as if she had only herself to lose, and despite all evidence to the contrary she'd banked on the troll's inability to harm two innocents. She hadn't believed he could do it, but his threats spoke otherwise. Now survival with minimal risk was paramount and that might mean losing. Hyara cowered against the wall with her eyes locked on the wicked blade that hovered near her heart. _Oh Light, please. I'll accept anything but my babies dying. And especially not here, please, not in this place._

The troll snicked the blade suddenly downward and let it finish the work he'd begun moments ago on her shirt. The low swell of her belly gleamed pale blue in the watery light and she stared down at it, feeling the beginnings of numbness in her mind. The blade paused, hovering at her midsection, and she shivered and shut her eyes as he pressed it flat and cold against her.

"Down," the troll whispered harshly and wrapped his fingers around her neck. His hand weighed on her like an anvil and she slid slowly down the wall to the ground.

***

By the time Jas'ka had disappeared around a high wall after Hyara, Galmak had the Shadow roaring greedily inward to him. It was a flood tide that threatened to carry him away if he didn't center his attention with the strictest discipline on what he hoped to accomplish, and so he could spare almost no thought for what he was feeling from his mate across the ruins. She had Gink. She would have nothing, not even her own life, if he failed this now.

And so he shut her out as best he could and concentrated. Torrid blackness shifted and swirled in his mind and he struggled to direct it into the energy he needed. He needed _power_. He needed something massive, something unavoidable and inevitable as the sunrise. Little knowing if he could even achieve such a thing, Galmak strained to reach for every ounce of power he could grasp. The thought crossed his mind that the effort might well drive him mad, much like the Legion's warlocks Var'kan and Teyagah had once known, reaching for a power they didn't understand and couldn't hope to contain.

The same tiny corner of his mind that was still paying attention to Hyara now felt Palla lope up and stop at his side. He didn't acknowledge her, even as she sat at his feet to guard him; he couldn't, or he would risk spectacularly losing everything he'd managed to scrape into his grasp. Gods, how long could he hold this flood and how long before they noticed what he was doing? It seemed the entire forest must be seething and boiling with the mad energy he'd tapped into. His mind threatened to wash away under the pressure. He knew he was holding on by a mere thread and if anything at all tipped the balance…

He had to release it. He had to do something with it. Sweat trickled down his face without even attracting his attention. He'd made a fast grab for power, afraid his time would run out, and now he didn't have a clear idea of how he needed to direct it. He couldn't see his targets. Should he walk into the building, open the door, face them and let the Shadow fly? Going inside the back room was out of the question, but unless he could see them… Galmak's mouth formed the words of a lurid curse without conscious direction from his brain.

And then in the space of one uttered syllable, his problems grew. It began with a tugging pressure from a different direction, so small that at first he didn't recognize it in the torrent straining against him, but mounting steadily until he realized with alarm that this was something new. The slight tug became the iron arm of a machine, ripping steadily and inexorably at his grasp on the Shadow. _Never think your spells are entirely your own_, Var'kan had cautioned. This thing he'd started without a clear direction, without true understanding, the undead was now going to take from him. With panic building, he summoned more strength than he knew he had and managed, just barely for the moment, to counter that outside force.

He groaned aloud, although he didn't hear it. It would be only a matter of time before Var'kan managed to wrest everything away, and then what? Aside from the obvious, that their one chance of escape would be gone forever, what other consequences would they face for his defiance? _Death for me, and then undeath. And final, complete death for Hyara and the twins, followed by entrapment in these ruins forever_.

_No, not here forever_, a cruel little voice told him. _Teyagah will have her slave back at last_.

* * *


	39. III: Just Desserts

* * *

If Jas'ka had been thinking clearly, he might have wondered why his victim didn't call out to Galmak, why she'd barely made any noise at all. He might have considered that, while the orc was unlikely to flee the ruins without his mate, there were plenty of other things he could be getting up to in the meantime. But Jas'ka's mind had clouded with a filthy rage; his ego demanded retribution against the draenei for the fact that she hadn't simply let him take what he wanted, despite being in no position to deny it.

He might also have remembered the giant cat, long absent and unseen, who at one time had presented such a danger to him in the forest. No scrape of claws on stone, no telltale hiss of air announced Gink's coming, but suddenly the muted light was eclipsed by a burst of ghostly, translucent white that slammed with a snarl and a crunch into the troll's back. Needle-like claws sunk into muscle and Jas'ka howled. The force of the blow squashed Hyara against the wall, but she shoved with all her might, sending him staggering away and then thudding to the ground. But true to his training he sprang back up with lightning speed and whirled with daggers glinting to face the new threat.

Gink was well-schooled in the game of stealthy attacks. Just as soon as Jas'ka went down, the cat's form rippled and was gone without a trace in the moist air. The troll's head swiveled wildly for a glimpse, but then instead of following suit into invisibility, he made to spring back toward Hyara. Another wild blur of fur met him and this time they went down together, clawing and jabbing, teeth and daggers flashing. A trail of red blood smeared across the damp stone ground but Hyara couldn't tell where it had come from. She scrambled shakily for another rock, but once she had it raised in a clutched fist it might as well have been a feather in her hand – there was nothing she could do while they were still tangled and rolling, Gink's jaws snapping at every opening with Jas'ka's daggers flailing away. Sometimes the blades were met by a batting paw, but other times not, Hyara could see now. Gink's translucent white fur seeped pink and dark red in more than one place.

Then there was a crash in the underbrush outside the ruined wall and Olkhor lurched into view, axe raised and face contorted into a furious snarl. Chu'thog followed him closely with the butt of his spear thudding against the stone in a war drum beat as he ran. The ogre let out a tremendous bellow that seemed to echo like an answering army around the ruins.

_Gink, let him go! Get away from him or they might end up hurting you_. Accompanying the words was her strongest and most urgent nonverbal command. Her gut told her not to underestimate that look of fury on Olkhor's face, or those blazing red eyes.

The cat thrashed, snarling and spitting, and with a shower of red droplets his claws ripped free of leather and skin. He sidled away with fur standing and back arched to bristle protectively in front of his mistress. For a mere split second Jas'ka looked as if he couldn't believe his luck to have been released, but then the oncoming bellow and the crash of heavy boots on stone whipped his head around to an unwelcome sight. With a cry of mingled alarm and rage and a shimmer of air, the troll winked from view.

But Olkhor was not to be denied this time. He charged after the telltale trail of blood dragging raggedly across the broken stone ground and the whistle of his blade silenced even the wind by comparison. Chu'thog howled again, a surreal ululation that was answered by even the trees behind him. Instead of following directly in Olkhor's path, he circled with long strides around through the fallen rock and encroaching foliage until he and the orc were approaching each other through the maze of ruined walls, closing a trap tighter and tighter between the stones. Olkhor's axe sliced in a downward arc once again and this time he found his mark – a fresh spurt of bright red blood and a howl heralded Jas'ka's sudden re-materialization against a chunk of broken stone. He stumbled and fell, clutching the side of his head, then fumbled for a grip on his daggers with blood-slicked hands. Chu'thog raised his spear for a triumphant final blow.

"Hold!" Olkhor roared. "Damn troll is mine!"

But then, with his ears slowly clearing of the rush of battle, he heard a stifled wail and a sob from behind. Hyara; he'd almost forgotten her in his rage. With a savage stomp to the troll's hands and a kick, he sent the daggers skating well out of reach across the stone. He hauled an obscenity-spitting Jas'ka to his knees and thrust his face close to the troll's long nose.

"Did you hurt her?" the old warrior snarled in his face.

Jas'ka tried to cower away, winced and cursed. "Almos'," he spat back savagely. "Bitch needs a lesson."

Olkhor jerked at the troll's tunic and, with a rough heave, dragged him a dozen paces back around the wall. Hyara was crumpled on the ground, hovering above her cat. The orc's stomach leaped in alarm – he couldn't tell if she was injured – and at last he released Jas'ka, then dropped down beside her.

"Hyara. Are you hurt?" he asked and gently touched her shoulder. None of the blood he could see was blue, although at closer range it looked as though there were some bruises forming on her wrists and arms.

She looked up for only a second with a slight shake of her head, then her eyes were back on her cat. Her fingers roamed across his fur, trailing through blood and probing gently. "Gink," she said with a gulp. He was lying quiescently on his side, very still. She was still determining if anything was seriously wrong.

_Slashes on my left haunch and my muzzle_, he supplied. _He took the hide off a place on my back. No stabs. The rest of the blood must be his._

As far as she could tell, he was right. It was certainly nothing as bad as he'd suffered down in the temple of the Light, although it looked far worse on the outside with the blood seeping through his fur like a sheet of crimson stained glass over his translucent coat. With a murmured prayer, she called on the Light and let the golden glow soak into her battered, beloved companion.

"Now da shades come fo' yah," Jas'ka cackled suddenly. Hyara spared a scrap of attention and drew a sharp breath of alarm. Beside her, Olkhor's growl rumbled. Even mighty Chu'thog had shrunk against the wall behind them and held his spear crosswise in front of his comrades, as if it could be a barrier against the insubstantial.

Jas'ka was right. A blue mist was gathering in a circle around the group, drifting a haze across the dreamy afternoon light and wafting an unearthly chill through the damp air. The beings' movements seemed lazy, unhurried, yet they had congregated so swiftly there was now not even a gap in the ephemeral ring. Hyara's eyes scanned the ghostly crowd and she could pick out many distinct faces, despite the light; their looks were hollow and their eyes wide and burning. She shuddered.

"Kill dem like yah told to," Jas'ka's voice slid out sly as a snake, smooth with triumph. "Dey interfere wit' yah masters' work an' now dey die fo' it. Dey yours, mah spirits. Now yah see dere blood run ovah da stones. Yah start wit' dat orc an' take vengeance." He pointed crookedly at Olkhor, splintered bones of his fingers showing sickeningly white in a few places through the blood and grime. There was something hypnotic about the way his voice crooned lower and softer as he spoke; even the little group of his enemies found themselves paused and gazing at him as if he held a secret they could only learn by listening closely. In the circle around them, a murmur arose like a light wind that plucked at the soul.

"Dey have no respect fo' da place of yah dyin'," Jas'ka kept on in that soft, mesmerizing voice that seemed utterly free of the pain he must be feeling. "Dey wish ta send me along into da afterlife even though yah masters don' wish it. It should be da orc whose blood runs heah. He dangerous an' 'ee kill yah again if 'ee could. Long ago, 'ee came to yah people an' brought dat axe o' his. He set about wit' it an' struck yah down. He screamed in glory when yah blood sprayed an' his eyes glowed red wit' da rage of da Legion. He desecrated yah homes an' yah fallen bodies, killed yah children. Dat orc is da reason yah here now. Da taint of his blood still flows fresh."

Hyara drew a soft breath at the echo of the shade's accusation several nights ago. The murmur from the crowd of the dead had thickened and risen higher in tone. Slowly, Olkhor stood from where he knelt at her side and his eyes flicked toward Jas'ka as he wondered what effect a swift end for the troll would have on the shades now. Hyara pressed a hand against his leg and he seemed to feel the caution rolling off her. Ending Jas'ka at this moment might do far more harm than good.

One of the draenei spirits, standing a little ahead of the rest, let his smoldering eyes settle on Olkhor and Hyara realized it was the man who'd spoken to her several nights ago.

"You speak truth, creature." His voice reverberated with chill distance, as if across an empty room. "The orc's blood is tainted with evil. Some part of me feels we have met before."

A few sighing wails rose from around the ring of blue mist and mingled with the soft roar of voices that sounded like a screaming crowd heard at a distance. Olkhor held his ground but there was a look of stifled horror creeping across his face.

"Yes," Jas'ka said with a slight wheeze and a grin wide as a river. "Dis orc has killed befo'. Dis orc has killed draenei. 'Ee got all yah spirits on 'is conscience. 'Ee deserves ta die fo' killin' yah brothers an' sisters, yah people. Kill 'im swiftly now, do what Ah say!"

_What he deserves_, the murmurs of the misty crowd seemed to say. A sound like leaves dancing in a high wind swept around them and the blue outlines swirled restlessly.

"I'll accept that," the old warrior said quietly. He drew his bulky frame up tall and took a step toward the shade who had spoken. "Won't have anyone saying I wasn't willing to pay my dues for the past. But this idiot here is next going to tell you to kill one of your own kind. You don't think that makes any sense, do you? That girl there's a right good citizen of your people and hasn't done a damn thing worth killing her for. Didn't think draenei'd be willing to kill each other. Won't complain about my own death, but if you're going to kill her too you'll have to come through me first." His jaw jutted defiantly and he stared eye to eye with the ghost of his old enemy.

_No redemption_, whispered the voices.

The shade of the man spoke again, and the voice was cold as honed steel, the underlying sorrow sharp as a blade. "You came over the walls; you blasted through them. We fought well and long but we were overrun. I died with my throat slit and a mace crushing my skull. Our blood flooded our homes and stained the stones for years afterward, and here we have been, orc. All these years, watching it all fall first to ruin at your hands, then to decay. Our bones lie here still. The Light has not taken us and we have never understood. We are something different now and we do not understand that either. Our deaths and our existence here are your fault and perhaps the Light that has denied us will still make you answer for what you have done."

"Yes, vengeance," Jas'ka hissed gleefully. "Da orc be yours! Kill 'im now fo' his crimes, fo' da blood of yah people!"

Blazing azure eyes slid like cold water toward the broken troll on the ground. Several beats of silence passed while the shade seemed to appraise the odd, long-tusked creature he had no name for.

"You are not one who orders us," he finally intoned. A chill murmur of affirmation rose behind him. "Our masters have given us no orders. We wait on their bidding because we must. We do not follow yours, creature."

He swung around in a blurred motion and faced his dead brethren, then held up a hand as if calling for silence, as if those who faced him had been gathered only moments ago from their lives, from homes and daily tasks to make an important decision. There was nothing but silence now, though; even the shades' restless rustles and whispers had ceased.

The man who had called himself Arcorm spoke. "We have been given no orders. Will we spill the orc's blood?"

The quiet of the forest filled the space for a moment. Then a few whispers rose from the crowd: _Blood. Let it join ours_. Jas'ka crowed a soft laugh; Chu'thog growled with his teeth bared. The ogre's tension looked very near the breaking point, although he'd so far shown admirable restraint. Olkhor squared his shoulders and slowly he handed off his axe to Hyara; a weapon would be useless against these beings and might only injure a friend. She took it and let the head rest on the ground, then pulled herself up to stand beside him. Gink rolled over gingerly to his paws and also stood.

"I've had my forgiveness from you," Olkhor whispered with a grim smile for Hyara. "I'll pay my dues now to those as can't forgive. Always did wonder, most of my life, when it would all catch up to me."

"The twins will hear about their uncle," Hyara said softly, choking back tears.

Pride flashed across the orc's face and he grinned with a short nod for her. If his death got her away from here and those whelps born, then so be it. There were worse ways to die than atoning for the past while saving the future at the same time. Olkhor was not given to such introspection for long, though, and the thought was fleeting. He faced the airy crowd in front of him with a fearless gleam in his reddish eyes and took another few steps forward.

_But life_, came another breathy voice from within the gathering of the dead. There was a collective pause, a sense of rumination. Something in the feel of the air had pivoted with that phrase. Hyara's eyes widened slightly as she realized what had happened so abruptly.

_Life and balance_, another voice cautioned somberly. _Death and retribution_.

_Life that runs its course to death without us._

Rising suddenly in a flurry, voices hissed and soughed off stone. Olkhor's eyes flicked uneasily to Hyara, silently asking if she knew what was going on. She did, or thought she did, but she didn't dare say anything for fear of upsetting the delicate, unnatural balance of these beings.

Below them on the ground, Jas'ka's face twisted in furious impatience. Broken though his fingers were, he beat a palm in anger against the stone. "Kill dem!" the troll growled, and then he raised his voice in a wild howl. "_Masters! Yah slaves be lettin' yah prisoners escape!_"

With a lurch, he gained his feet and flung himself toward the rest of the group. Olkhor snarled and grabbed at the troll. Hyara felt the orc's axe ripped from her grasp, then something tapped against her temple and the world turned strangely black for a few seconds. She reeled and felt hands grab her before the touch faded. When the light grew again, vertigo clutched at her for a moment as she realized she was now facing the forest canopy. Olkhor's face hovered over her, blotting the green gloom from view. Her left hoof was resting in something uncomfortably warm and sticky and she lifted it away.

"Don't sit up," Olkhor said gruffly and lifted the cloth she now realized had been pressed against the side of her head. He frowned and pressed it back. "It's not bad, but…"

"You don't wanna see mess he made," Chu'thog supplied helpfully.

"The shades…?" she asked in confusion.

"They left," Olkhor said curtly. "Went all weird. Their leader, or whoever he was, said life was the better half of the balance, whatever that means."

More than a few seconds out, then, and the Spirit had decided to spare Olkhor. She took a shaky breath, realizing that if her own people's spirits had made the decision in the end, it might have been different. What did that say about her and her people? She wanted to believe they would have reached the same conclusion as the Spirit, that life was better and death through vengeance only upset the balance.

Despite the warning, she pushed herself shakily to her elbows and took the cloth from her head. A dark spot of blood stained it in a small circle, but another cloth lay nearby, soaked more liberally in blue. There were a few spatters on the ground near her head, and as she glanced again at Olkhor, she noticed that, oddly, there was blue smeared through the grey of his hair.

"What…?" She frowned a question and pointed unsteadily at the blood smeared on his head.

Olkhor looked reluctant to answer, but he said, "Shade did it. Seemed to dip his hand in your blood and said some things might never lift from my head." He shrugged without looking at her, and despite his feigned unconcern, she saw lines of pain etched on his face. "But then he said something about how I helped guard them. Damned if I know what that means."

The smile that sprang to her face startled the old orc and the fond squeeze to his hand even more so, but there was no time to explain now, nor was it her right. She sat the rest of the way up, a little dizzily, and finally noticed what Chu'thog had meant by "mess." The spattering of her own blood was nothing to what was lying some paces away on the ground. Hyara retched and Chu'thog hastily shuffled over, blocking her view.

Jas'ka had finally met his end on the blade of Olkhor's axe. A massive gash had split his ribs diagonally and let out more blood than it seemed possible for his body to have contained. He lay face-up and staring in the bright crimson pool, eyes and blood reflecting the eerie green light above. The damp wind riffled his hair in that peculiar, careless way that makes the dead truly seem gone.

"He pulled another dagger from somewhere," Olkhor said. "Dunno who he was really coming after; probably any one of us at this point. The blade hit you on a horn when he lunged and slid down to your scalp before I got him down. He was a bad sort for sure." He said it a little defensively, as if he expected Hyara to recoil from him for killing the troll.

"I know, Olkhor," she sighed. "A traitor, and a rapist and murderer at heart."

"I led him to you," he grunted without meeting her eyes.

"He would have found us anyway. Lahgga already had."

Looking away from the horrible mess on the ground nearby, she hauled herself up with a hand from Chu'thog. Olkhor could feel bad later; right now they had much bigger worries. She'd barely had a half a chance to pay any attention to Galmak's sense, although she had noticed he'd stayed strangely calm and even throughout everything. Surely that meant his side of things, whatever it was, was going well.

Just as she gained her hooves, the ground vibrated and seemed to inhale like a great beast about to bellow. A brief, pregnant pause, no longer than a heartbeat, and then the groaning crack of tortured stone reverberated in a cannon shot around the ruins from somewhere ahead. The ground roared again in rage and the ruins rattled like a cage of old bones.

Hyara didn't even spare a wild glance to see if the others were following as she dashed away through the maze of broken walls.

* * *


	40. III: Runes

* * *

A/N: After this, keep on the lookout for the Epilogue, which I'll be putting up very soon.

* * *

Sweat stood out in a glistening film on Galmak's brow. His eyes drooped almost shut with only a slivered glitter to tell that he could still see anything around him. Regardless, Palla wasn't sure he actually was seeing anything in a world she could understand right now – his feel was unlike anything she'd ever experienced from him before. The wolf stalked restlessly around her master in a wide circle, on watch for whatever danger might come. She had no confidence she could deal with any of what he was likely to face, however.

There'd been no sign of any movement from the building her master had been held in for the past few weeks. Two undead inside, just like always, but only silence and dead stone outside after the sounds of battle had ceased across the ruins. She was tempted to steal quietly inside, peer around a corner and discover why the undead hadn't emerged. But despite his extreme distraction Galmak must have recognized something of that half-formed plan, because into her mind pushed a firm command: _Stay here_. She obeyed, pacing closer to him with a sense of shame. The last thing she'd meant to do was appropriate even a scrap of his concentration.

The strain of magical tug-of-war was beginning to tire him. The power he'd gathered as his own, without interference, had become less and less his own, less under his control, until now he was scrabbling just to keep any hold on it. The advantage hadn't shifted, exactly, but he could tell by this time that the advantage was no longer his own either. Galmak was certain by this time that it was Var'kan trying to steal the raw power he'd managed to summon. Throughout his training he'd noticed a certain signature of power from the undead man, easily distinguishable from his grandmother. He'd begun to realize that any caller of the Shadow must stamp a unique identity on his magic. In this, he recognized Var'kan. And so what was Teyagah doing in there? Galmak had no spare energy to give it any thought. He'd started out with the element of surprise and lost it to inexperience and desperation. _Hyara, forgive me, love. I don't know how I'll ever dig us out of this_.

Palla padded across his blurred sightline and dimly he followed her movements. She would suffer too. Even if she weren't killed when he failed, she would feel the horrible pain he'd seen before in other hunters' pets, the pain that came when the bond was severed by the force of death. That pain ran both ways, he knew from experience. There would be no shaman this time to call her back if he lost her.

As he felt himself reeling dizzily, exhaustedly, toward loss of control, his mind meandered within the narrow lines of concentration. Palla _would_ go on without him; she'd been without him in the beginning. He remembered finding her in Mulgore – how small she'd been, barely more than a pup – and how she'd been so friendly, possibly sensing something of the bond they would come to share. She'd tried to follow him, and then it had struck him, in what he still considered the first moment of thinking of himself as truly a hunter, that he could keep her. She hadn't liked it at first. She hadn't understood the first tentative brushes of the bond across her mind and she'd rebelled, gone into a frenzy, and clamped her small but fierce jaws around his forearm. He still had that scar, faint now. But then, gradually, understanding had come to her. He was offering something different, something she might find rewarding. At that moment he'd understood better too, and he'd known to let go and let her decide. And of course she had decided…

_Let go_. He was suddenly very aware of the cold, slick sweat riming his face. He swallowed; his mind bucked with revulsion. Surely it couldn't be. Var'kan's presence hulked like a dark mountain in his head and reeled the Shadow ever inward in a steady slip through Galmak's fingers. To let all that go now, willingly, would be madness. He'd be signing everything over to the undead.

_No, let go_. His inner voice was more insistent now. In reluctant response, his mind mulled over the possibility. He had no idea what letting go would mean, but above all a hunter learned to trust his instincts. Instinct was very clearly urging him in this. Letting go was not madness. Letting go could mean an end.

_Palla, help._

The thought burst into her head with desperate suddenness and startled her. She froze her pacing and fixed her wide gold eyes on her master, listening.

_I don't know what to do. I think I should let go._

This was utterly beyond her; she had no comprehension of the dark tangle she felt inside his mind, so unlike any other experience of him. But he was still her beloved master and she would never deny him the illusion of comfort if she could give it. And above anything, she trusted his instincts.

_Then you do know what to do_, she replied. _I've always trusted you, even when I was angry. I trust you now._

He shuddered and his eyelids dropped shut. His whole body hummed with the force of what he was trying to contain and he knew with grim certainty he would break soon. Hyara would come back – _safe, ancestors, please_ – to find him a gibbering shell, or dead, if fate decided to be more merciful. And so there was really no other solution. With one last colossal heave, he dragged inward on the black, twisting rope that connected him to an unseen Var'kan behind the walls in front of him, and then he let go.

The Shadow fled his mind and body with a roar that sounded sentient in its malevolent triumph. It hissed and surged in immediate release, blasting outward from his hands somewhere in front of him and leaving a dazzling, silver-limned cloud of blackness plastered across his vision. With a feeling of surreal lightness and a detachment born of overwhelming relief, he vaguely noticed the whistle of air and the sharp pain that followed as his body blasted backward and crunched against a jagged stone wall. Dazedly, he scrambled to his feet and braced against the bucking shockwaves traveling outward from the stone building ahead. The ground was flexing, the building was flexing. Solid stone rippled and breathed. Walls cracked and sucked inward as if some huge beast had drawn breath in the middle of the ruins and was trying to inhale the entire rotted scene. Stone crumbled and with his sight returning, he noticed every sift of dust that poured to the ground, every puff of dry dirt that rose into the air. Boulders vibrated and tottered precariously, then lost the battle with gravity and plunged downward in slow motion after decades of sullen, dead rest, only to come to rest again with a booming crack. Flying dust, dead leaves, even small branches choked the air and hazed the already dim light, paused motionless at the top of their arc, then finally fell back to earth in a suffocating rain. Reflexively, Galmak threw up his hands to shield his eyes from the grit. He could just make out Palla, crouched flat against the ground nearby with her eyes closed, like a boat riding low in the water and battened down against a storm. It all lasted only seconds, but his brain registered it in the feeling of years.

And then, as suddenly as he'd flung away his grip on the power, silence fell again. The forest paused in dazed shock for several moments before resuming the usual rhythm of millennia with a new note of hesitancy. Something foul and acrid stained the air, the scent of wild Shadow and destruction. Galmak groaned, retched, then realized his legs wouldn't hold him anymore. He sank back to his knees and stared in horror at what he'd caused.

There had been only one building standing intact in the entire village; now there were none at all. Where the stone walls had risen up across the courtyard in front of him, scarred by time and dark magic but still strong, now only more piles of rubble slouched. Huge blocks of grey stone had been tossed inward, blurring the lines of where the building had stood. The roof was gone, surely splintered down on the whole place, a literal ton or more of stone that had dropped on the heads of those inside. With fear, confusion, and wary relief vying inside him, Galmak managed to rise again and stepped unsteadily toward the mess of destruction.

There was a strange sound behind him, like a sob and a shout, and it took him a little longer than normal to identify Hyara's voice. He turned to see her sprinting for him with Gink close behind, and then before he knew it, he was collapsing in her arms.

She couldn't hold him, but she did her best to let him down softly. "Galmak. Galmak, what happened to you? Are you hurt?" Her hands ran across his body and his head, checking for injuries; her bright eyes glowed with fear and concern. After what felt like far too long, he managed to shake his head feebly.

"Don't think I'm… hurt. Just tired. Gods…"

His head swiveled toward the pile of rubble, but Hyara barely glanced that way. She'd seen it and she didn't care right now. She'd never seen Galmak like this, though, and it frightened her. His mind felt muddled and turbulent, drawing her with the now-familiar arousal yet also repelling with the sting of chaos; she could tell for herself how tired he was and she had to fight against it spilling into her own mind. Kneeling over him, she pressed her cheek against his and tried to push a little strength and clarity into him. After a moment, he closed his dazed eyes and she began to sense some return of normality.

"Love," she whispered. "We're safe. We're alright."

"So far." He opened his eyes and she was relieved to hear a trace of familiar wry cynicism in his voice.

"You think they survived that." She nodded skeptically at the ruins without looking. How had he done such a thing? Surely he couldn't have summoned so much power on his own?

He sat up laboriously and grimaced, holding a hand to a bruised side. "I won't believe they didn't until I see it."

He stood with a hand from Olkhor, now also hovering nearby with gruff concern and a leery glare for the mess of debris where the building had stood. Galmak squinted up and wiped the stinging grit from his eyes, then held out a hand.

"You must be Chu'thog. Hyara tells me you've been a good companion. Now it looks like we have even more to thank you for."

"Galmak," the huge ogre pronounced with a nod and took the proffered hand. "I stick around to smash heads, but it look like somebody else get to do all the smashing. Maybe I smash lousy tauren if he still there."

Still nothing stirred from the building; all was as eerily still as it had been before, save the small sounds of loose stones sifting their way down to a final settling spot where they would rest for decades more. No groans of pain, no voices, no sounds of shifting rubble that might be caused by a near-immortal being rising unscathed by disaster. Galmak gave a small, grim shake of his head and walked cautiously, and still a little unsteadily, toward the imploded building.

Fine dust still danced in the air and sent the green forest light downward in wavering shafts. He waved a hand before him to clear a way and pulled his shirt up over his nose and mouth, picking carefully across loose stones and finally boosting himself over the low remnants of a wall. He was inside what had been the outer room now, where their little prison bedroom had been. Hardly any of the floor was visible through the wreckage of the ceiling. Hearing hoofsteps behind him, he turned around.

"Stay back until I see something," he murmured. Hyara paused, then nodded reluctantly. The twins had taken enough risks for today. Olkhor stopped beside her and planted himself like a boulder with his axe ready and his narrowed eyes flitting uneasily across the mess.

Taking careful stock of the room and seeing nothing to indicate that the undead were here, Galmak continued carefully across the shifting mass of rubble. There was no reason to believe they'd be out here. Whatever they'd been up to that had kept them inside, aside from Var'kan's efforts to steal the magic from Galmak's grasp, they would have been about it in their workroom. The thick wooden door, the village's only one remaining, had splintered to pieces under the weight of falling stone. The fragments protruded like shattered spears from the pile of rocks marking the doorframe. Galmak climbed gingerly over the higher wall to the side, avoiding the dangerous spikes, and lowered himself into the back room near the corner Hyara had always claimed.

The first thing his eyes lighted on sent his stomach twisting in irrational terror. He grabbed at the wall for support and waited until his breathing had steadied again before moving further. Near the center of the room, slick and dark in the weak light, cobalt blood spread in a shallow pool. It seeped through the broken stones and the remnants of worktables, had spread a thin film over everything and turned the gritty dust to coagulating sludge. The coppery smell of it was sharp in the air. Glittering slivers of broken glass peppered the debris and Galmak stepped carefully, mindful of his footing.

His next discovery was just as gruesome. Around the other side of a large chunk of stone, he could see a man's boot protruding. He approached it warily and more of Var'kan's body came into view. There was none of the obsidian-black blood Galmak remembered, no visible sign of injury, judging from the merely dusty and dirty state of the ember-colored robes…

Not until Var'kan was in full view, that is. Galmak turned away and closed his eyes briefly, steeling himself to examine the scene more closely. Unquestionably, Var'kan was finally, irrevocably dead this time and there would be no third chance for him. The body lay very quietly, untwisted and utterly natural in appearance as if he'd simply laid down for a rest on the floor. His hands were outstretched at his sides in a gesture that looked oddly generous and magnanimous, and the iron cane was laid out precisely across his chest. The eyes, now a dead, bottomless black, were frozen open in a look of surprise and the mouth seemed poised to utter some spell. But the deceptive peace of the final pose ended just above those blank eyes. Above the eyes, Var'kan's head was missing. The gigantic chunk of stone that had obscured Galmak's view as he approached had been the instrument of the undead's downfall. It had crashed from its spot in the ceiling or the wall and had neatly sheared off the top of the head, bringing Var'kan down with it to the ground and pinning his body there in its macabrely truncated final resting place. And on the boulder the caustic black blood and worse was clearly visible, spattered across the stone and pooling thickly like a pillow beneath the head. A few severed locks of grey hair trailed in it, stirred by the breeze.

"Galmak?" called Hyara's voice uncertainly. He tore his eyes away from the grizzly scene to see her standing with Olkhor and Chu'thog beside the wall he'd come over.

"Don't come over here," he advised. "I haven't found Teyagah yet."

"And Var'kan?" Olkhor asked.

Galmak glanced involuntarily at the undead on the ground. "Dead. Pretty fucked up. You shouldn't see." He directed the last at Hyara.

"I need to come in there," she said and he frowned, ready to object, but then it struck him why she must want to. He could feel her determination and he finally nodded.

"Alright, love. But fair warning about Var'kan, and wait another minute to see if I can find Teyagah. Chu'thog, could I get a hand in here?"

The ogre bellowed an enthusiastic affirmative and stepped easily over the wall. He hesitated momentarily at Var'kan's body and muttered something under his breath, but the sight didn't hold his attention for long. He tramped over to where Galmak was kneeling beside a cairn-like pile of small boulders in a far corner of the ruined room.

"Help me shift some of these rocks," Galmak explained, tossing one over the side of the wall. He could see no other place in the debris that would so completely obscure Teyagah's body as to make it invisible to his search. None of the other rubble littering the floor was deep enough or dense enough not to reveal at least a telltale scrap of scarlet robe; a patch of pallid skin; a lock of long, dark hair. She had to be under here.

They worked for a few minutes at whittling into the side of the stone pile. Chu'thog scooped up a boulder the size of a sheep and heaved it away with a crash and a fresh cloud of dust. Galmak pulled away several more small boulders, and then all at once he was staring into the darkness of a small hole in the cairn. The ogre let out a low bellow of success and started to dig out another massive boulder to enlarge the hole, but Galmak shook his head and motioned the ogre back. Very carefully, with more than a little trepidation, he let a little of the Shadow flow through him and into his hands until above his palm hovered a dark, greenish ball of light. Leaning close to the hole, he pushed the little light slowly inside.

At first there was not much to see, only the jagged sides of more shattered stones and blackness in the cracks where the light didn't reach. There was very little space under the pile; it was not actually hollow as he'd suspected and feared. But then, as he let the light slide downward into a lower crack between stones, his eye caught something glinting. He pushed his face a little further inside and now he saw the black sheen of a fingernail, then another. Teyagah's face was beside her hand, eyes closed, head twisted to the side as if she slept. The rest of her seemed buried and pinned beneath the pile of stone. There was something clutched in her hand and Galmak strained to tell what it was – it looked like another stone, fist-sized and jagged like so many of the ones they'd just moved, but on this one he caught the faint pulsing trace of blue that signified a rune. There was no sound or feel of breath in the tight space, and no question of finding a pulse. He stared at her face for another few seconds and then pulled his head back out of the hole.

"We'll put the rocks back now," he said. Chu'thog looked at him askance, but he nodded and helped Galmak gather chunks of stone to replace the ones they'd moved. Behind them, mercifully to the other side of Var'kan's boulder, Hyara and Olkhor had come cautiously inside the ruined room. Olkhor was staring blank-faced at the stain of blue blood on the ground; Hyara was rummaging through the shattered remnants of a worktable nearby.

As Galmak joined her, she looked up and asked softly, "Did you find her?"

He nodded but said nothing for a moment. Then finally he sighed very quietly. "She's buried and gone." Olkhor grunted and walked away to put the blue puddle out of sight behind a huge chunk of stone. Only Hyara heard her mate add, "Let's just leave it at that."

Galmak squatted to help her sift the rubble. _You are very like your mother, whelp_, Teyagah had once told him. He was not a cold-blooded killer. Perhaps some would say it marked him a coward, but he could not stare straight into the face of a defenseless enemy and then drive a blade through her heart or lop off her head to be sure she was dead. He could do what needed to be done to get his mate and unborn children to safety, but now… He had already done what needed doing. He couldn't take another dark step forward to be absolutely certain. He would leave it to the ancestors and pray that her spirit had finally fled this world beneath that crushing pile of rock.

"Here it is," Hyara breathed in relief as she pulled a small, polished wood chest from beneath a chunk of the door. Half of the chest's top had splintered but the rest was intact and its contents seemed all accounted for. She stood with some difficulty, hugging the heavy thing in her arms. Galmak flashed a smile at her a little wearily as he bent to his own task and began sorting through the mess of cobalt blood-soaked debris nearby.

"There's something I need to do before we leave here," Hyara said.

Her feel told him something of what she meant and he nodded. "I've got to finish looking for myself. Will you be safe now without me?"

"Yes," she answered with certainty. "But I don't need to go alone. Olkhor should come with me."

The old orc started at the unexpected invitation to an unknown place. "What's this all about?" he scowled suspiciously. "We ought to get our asses out of here. Those shades are still around, you know. Even with their masters dead they're not going to be a happy bunch."

"I know, Olkhor," Hyara only said.

"Wait," Galmak said as she started to leave. He fumbled in a pocket and then a stone clacked as he dropped it inside the box to rest with its fellows. "No need to keep that anymore. We came through alright, didn't we? All of us." He smiled and wiped at the tears that clouded his mate's eyes for a moment, then rested a hand against her belly.

Hyara motioned Olkhor to follow after her as she lifted her hooves carefully back over the wall. The warrior sent a helpless look at the younger orc, but Galmak was crouched in the puddle of blood and glass, eyes and fingers searching the ground intently. Olkhor followed the draenei with an exasperated mutter.

She led him away, across the courtyard, back through the village, past the place where Jas'ka had died. Olkhor's feet followed only reluctantly. He knew by now where she was taking him and he wanted nothing to do with it. It couldn't be right for him to go there. It would be dishonor to them, surely; it might anger them. He wouldn't blame them if it did.

As they reached the ivy-furred mouth of the cave and Gink slipped in ahead of them, she turned around and carefully handed him the box. "Here. You see better in the dark and I'll need both my hands on the walls to get most of the way down." Then she peeled aside several of the thick vines and disappeared into the gaping opening. Olkhor stood staring for several seconds before he joined her on the stair, frowning fiercely at the waiting darkness.

The chamber was not quite as she'd last seen it, and Hyara blinked around in the soft light for a moment before realizing what the difference was. The fragments of crystal, shattered and strewn about by Gink's ill-fated attempt to battle the shade, were gone. The floor was clean and smooth again. She felt an ache rise in her throat and she knelt in brief prayer. When she rose and turned around, she saw that Olkhor had backed against the wall at the bottom of the stair and was clutching the chest so hard he'd cracked what was left of the wooden lid in half.

"Olkhor, come inside," she said gently and walked over to pry the box from his fingers. The orc shook his head and glared. She thought his eyes looked a little too bright, and then her suspicions were confirmed when he blinked and a tear escaped the corner of his eye to slide down his broad nose.

"I shouldn't be here," he growled huskily. "Of all places in this damned broken world, I shouldn't be here at all."

"You're here because you _should_ be here, and I needed your help getting down. And I want you to be here for what I'm going to do. I think it's right that you see the end of this." She tossed away the chest's broken lid. Inside, the box was half full of flat grey stones. They would have looked wholly unremarkable except for the shimmer of blue and the slow whirl of faint, squiggled symbols across their surfaces.

"Galmak's runes," Olkhor said with some surprise.

"Not Galmak's." She took his hand and led him like a child into the chamber. Olkhor went along obediently this time, dazed by the beauty of the place and wanting in spite of himself to see it more closely. When they reached the edge of the crystalline forest, Hyara stopped and lowered the box to the floor, then sat. Without a word, Olkhor sat beside her. She closed her eyes and let the feel of the place soak into her bones, ignoring the headache and letting the Light simply wash around her. It felt so sweet. She'd wondered for a time if she'd ever come here again, and she knew that once they left the village for good she would miss this private, secret refuge very much.

But she had a purpose here, and she couldn't be selfish any longer. She called silently to the Light that soaked her body and it welled up gently but brilliantly, gloriously, a heady and joyful feeling that made her envy her brother the vindicator, who must feel this whenever he asked. With a smile she opened her eyes and saw what she had expected and hoped.

The shades had gathered. Grim but not quite silent, they had wisped in the blink of an eye through stone and ground to gather in misty blue huddles in the crystal forest. Their burning eyes were fastened on Hyara and seemed to drink in the golden corona that surrounded her. Very slowly, hesitantly, they pressed forward until they surrounded the orc and the Light-suffused draenei. Hyara rested a hand briefly on Olkhor's knee and his low growl trailed into uneasy silence.

_The Light_, the directionless murmurs bounced softly around the high chamber, as if pleading with it for something. Hyara reached forward and placed her hands on the box of runestones.

"May the Light embrace you," she said softly and then let the deep, pulsing power flow downward into her hands, trusting that it would know what to do.

Gold encased the wooden chest, too brilliant to look at for long. The power surged gently, smooth with the feel of healing and bright with joy. The whispers rose in a tide, ephemeral bodies pressed closer, gauzy hands reached forward and she felt the cold brush of their wind. Then they began, one by one, to waver. Slowly, like lights, they winked out. Hyara looked around the enclosing circle and for an instant her eyes caught those of the man, Arcorm, who had spoken to her. In his eyes for only a heartbeat she saw something beside cold rage and hatred before his misty shade-form blinked suddenly out of existence.

There was no feeling of destruction as she'd expected, yet when at last the radiance began to wane and she looked down, the box had been burned away to fine grey ash and the stones rested in a loose pile on the cave floor. Slowly the Light faded around her hands and left her body with only the warm glow of its memory and the promise that she could call it again at need. The stones, dull and grey, were clean of the dirt that had caked them. No blue runes danced on their surfaces. She picked one up and held it in the diffuse light of the crystals. It was only a stone now, an ordinary rock that no one would look at twice.

She left the pile of stones there on the floor of the Light's temple, a small monument to those who had given their lives and more for so long. Then she, Olkhor, and Gink stepped carefully up the dark stairs in silence with the weight of the earth and the immensity of lives redeemed pressing around them.

*

The journey back to Karkun Kamil had not been as oppressive as Galmak had feared. He'd been afraid of the miles that still separated them from safety, afraid of the edginess he thought would dog them the whole way, even afraid of this new attitude of worry in himself. Would he feel this way the rest of his life, with three other lives to be responsible for?

But they'd started back that very day, and Galmak had felt lightness gathering around the group with every step they took away from those cursed ruins. Even the Shadow kept at bay in his mind, easily controlled by the discipline he'd learned under pressure, as if it had finally capitulated to his authority.

Lahgga had been gone when they returned to Olkhor and Chu'thog's campsite, a guilty relief. Perhaps Galmak should have been outraged the tauren had made an escape once he'd heard the chaos from the ruins, leaving a pile of bloodied, severed ropes on the ground outside the scuffed and disrupted rune circle. Somehow, however, he couldn't bring himself to care. It was one less thing to deal with and one less delay on the way to getting home.

They'd passed Chu'thog's village in the late afternoon, the ogre choosing to travel on with them to see the cleft for a few days, and by sunset they'd rounded a bend in the Low Path to see Nagrand spread out before them in all its green and gold autumnal glory. The gloom of the forest was a memory now. The soft sigh of the wind in the grass urged them on and the nether ran like a road overhead, beckoning them westward.

Karkun Kamil was quiet when they arrived. They'd pushed on through the night, defying exhaustion, and now finally looked down on the sleeping cleft just after midnight. It was only a little over twelve hours since they'd been prisoners fearing for their lives and the lives of their twins. Hyara couldn't stifle her quiet sobs of relief as they rode down the east cliff path and smelled the lush, cool air of their home for the first time in weeks.

Not wanting to disturb Na'grok for a room in the inn at this hour, they made camp in the trees just north of the foot of the path, across the stream from the village. They fell asleep almost immediately to the gentle trill of water and the rustle of wind in the leaves overhead.

The ring of hammer on anvil awakened Galmak very early in the morning. The others were still asleep, and now that he heard the sound again in full wakefulness he realized it wasn't actually very loud here, with the brook bubbling nearby and the early-morning whispers of the little woods around him. Maybe it had wakened him because he'd been listening for it. Quietly, he gathered up a bulky hide bag and trotted across the bridge with Palla at his heels, then turned south and crossed the grassy yard that spread before the Marvers' little house and the smithy nearby.

"Kellig!" he called from the doorway over the clang of metal.

There was a louder clang and a Dwarvish curse, then the man turned around and stepped over to the doorway, red-faced.

"Damn it all, Galmak!" he exclaimed. "Where the bloody hell did yeh come from!" But he thumped the orc heartily on the back and shook his head in disbelief. "Yeh an' Hyara disappeared fer weeks. Kereth's been spinning 'round and 'round like a top with worry. There's been talk o' a search party and some inquiries in Shattrath. Yer gonna have some accountin' to do, mark me words."

"Well, don't worry. I'm sure the story will get around sooner rather than later," Galmak sighed. He paused awkwardly. "Kellig… I've got a favor to ask. I'm wondering if I can use your forge for a few minutes."

The dwarf blinked. "Use me forge… Er, if yeh don't mind me askin', what for?"

"I can't say exactly, but it's important. But I promise I won't damage anything and I promise I won't disrupt any of the work you've got going."

"Well…" The dwarf looked uneasily around at the smithy like a possessive mother reluctant to hand her baby to a friend. "I suppose. As long as yeh'll not touch the work there on the bench."

He shuffled out the door with more than one suspicious look over his shoulder. Galmak closed it gently behind him.

Beside the forge was a stock of coal. Galmak took up the shovel and scooped a load inside, then set to with the bellows, then still more coal, more air. Before long he had the forge roaring. For a brief moment he stared into the licking fire and watched the sparks fly upward. It was only flame to him now, no different from what most people saw. He felt his heart should ache with the memory of what he'd once had and lost, but somehow it didn't. He was what he was now. There was no returning to that, and he realized with a startled smile that it no longer hurt like it had.

Reaching to the bag at his feet, he dumped the contents into the shovel. The little grey pebbles, still stained with the blood of his mate, clanged and skittered as they hit the metal. A few scattered to the floor and he corralled them back in place.

_Ancestors, I pray I found them all at the ruins._

He paused as he raised the shovel toward the roaring fire, and one last time he allowed himself to extend his senses the way he had as a shaman, toward the fire, searching for any hint of what he'd once felt. There was nothing… no, he could feel nothing at all. But just for good measure, he sent it one final plea.

_Fire, take these runes and break them. Set free the part of the Spirit of the Wilds that I helped enslave._

It wasn't entirely unselfish, but if ever he'd asked something the elements ought to be in sympathy with, it was this. He pushed the shovel into the flames until it glowed bright orange and he could hardly look at it anymore. With his eyes watering, he forced himself to stare, to look for any sign that the fire was accomplishing what he needed. Slowly, the longer he looked, the runes also began to glow. Not orange like the metal or white-yellow like the flames, but a dull blue, rising to a grey-white intensity that left spots dancing on his eyes when he glanced away. Sweat rolled down his face from the heat of the fire and his muscles were beginning to shake from holding the heavy shovel at arm's length for so long, but Galmak stayed motionless and watched. There was a sudden flash of white-hot light and the flames sprang higher with an angry roar, licking around the metal and obscuring the pile of runestones from view. Air whistled past his ears and he realized it was rushing inward, toward the forge, fueling the flames. Then there was a great cracking sound that split his ears and made him flinch reflexively, and suddenly the roaring flames shrunk to just the height they had been when he had first entered the smithy.

Blinking his dazzled eyes, Galmak withdrew the shovel from the forge and stared down at the metal, rapidly cooling to black. The stones were all there as they had been, except now every one of them was cracked in half. The fire had literally broken the runes. The Spirit would suffer no longer because of his mistake months ago. With a smile tugging the corners of his mouth, he walked out the back of the smithy and heaved the pile of dead stones into the swift-running stream. There was a momentary hiss of steam as they hit the water and then they were gone from sight in the current, to be tumbled with the other ordinary stones and lost forever.

* * *


	41. III: Epilogue

* * *

A/N: Thanks, all, for reading. Be sure you didn't miss the chapter before this one, called Runes, or you'll be a little lost.

* * *

******* Epilogue

The door creaked softly open and a pair of luminous eyes appeared hesitantly around the edge. Palla and Gink, sitting to either side of the door like guards, both raised their heads. It was only Kereth; she passed inspection for entry. The wolf and the cat slipped back into a doze. Hyara would have held a finger to her lips if she'd had a free hand, but instead she had to settle for a simple "shh." Her eyes dropped meaningfully to her lap. The twins were asleep at last, fed and content for now.

Kereth crept soundlessly into the room, followed closely by Serlah, who shut the door behind her. Galmak managed to spare a glance away from the babies to flash a proud grin at his mother, but then all his attention went right back to his tiny daughter and son resting in his mate's arms. He wouldn't have believed it possible until just a few days ago that he'd feel such complete contentment merely gazing at two such tiny creatures. They were _his_. His and Hyara's. And they were finally here, and they were beautiful. Did the world really need anything else?

Very carefully, he reached over and took Morya in his arms. She was a marvel. That miniature head he could cup in his palm, the downy little dark shock of hair she'd been born with. The tiny, smooth nubs on the sides of her head where horns would eventually begin to grow (to what length, would be a surprise); the baby-soft light blue skin, just the shade of Hyara's; and the little feet, smaller than his thumb, with tiny toes. Her eyes, when she opened them and stared up straight into her father's face, were his own – deep brown and surprisingly piercing for a newborn. Jorruk had the beginnings of a stumpy little tail and just the same eyes and hair as Morya. The slight jut to his lower jaw hinted he might get a pair of tusks along with his first set of teeth. He and his sister were a little of both of them. Galmak couldn't imagine his children any other way. They were perfect, and he knew they'd turned him very suddenly to a sappy mess. He grinned between his daughter in his arms and his son in his mate's arms, deciding he was completely content to enjoy being a sappy mess for a while.

Serlah smiled her own private smile, not missing her son's look, and motioned that she would take Jorruk if Hyara wanted a break. With a grateful smile, Hyara handed him over to his grandmother and stood to stretch. The twins seemed to be ravenous most of their waking hours, which tended to exhaust her. It was a good sort of exhaustion, though.

She walked to the window, smiling to herself, and looked out at the bright midday sunlight pouring into the cleft. Across the green in front of Kereth's little house – no, theirs now, she still had to get used to that – she could see Gheris, Father, and Nayuula sitting in the shade of a tree. Olkhor was hovering nearby, probably participating in the conversation by way of supplying the occasional grunt. Undoubtedly Gheris had asked him to sit and join them, but poor Olkhor could never seem to accept that he might actually be wanted or welcome anywhere. Just like always, he preferred to hover on the outskirts and absorb the reflected happiness of others. At least he had chosen to stay at Karkun Kamil – "for now," as he put it, although he'd never once talked of going back to Thunderlord Stronghold in all the months since they'd gotten back to the cleft. He might feel he didn't belong, but he'd been graciously accepted right into the heart of the Kanrethad and Hyara knew there would be more than a few people sorry to see him leave if he ever decided to.

It felt strange to know that everyone was here, and all at once too. She'd not really believed her family, or Galmak's parents, for that matter, would ever come back to Outland. What had been even stranger had been the way they had all arrived, only two weeks ago, together. It had all been Gheris's doing, of course. Somehow he'd managed to convince Mother it was a good idea to go to the extreme trouble and expense of conjuring a portal to get them all quickly to Shattrath, and somehow he'd convinced the whole lot of the family that the best place to conjure that portal was at a small farm in the Barrens, just south of Orgrimmar. A letter sent ahead to Lurigk and Serlah via Ratchet, several days' travel down through Darkshore and Ashenvale, and… Gods, what an odd scene that must have been when they'd all arrived. Hyara would have loved to have seen it for herself. Somehow, she couldn't quite picture Grandfather very at home amongst the boar pens. Not that they'd stayed, though; Lurigk and Serlah had been prepared to leave immediately, the care of their farm all provided for by a neighbor's son. A quick step between worlds and the whole party had arrived half a day's journey from their son and very pregnant daughter. The twins had been born about a week later at the waning of the Fire Festival, amidst much chaos and celebration. Hyara contended they'd been curious about all the noise from the firecrackers and had come out to see what was going on.

And everyone still seemed to be getting along, no doubt due in some part to Gheris's natural diplomatic prowess. Hyara would be forever grateful to him for getting everyone here together for such a special event. It hadn't been possible at her marriage and she'd always regretted that, but this made up for it in some way.

A feather-light drum of fingers sounded against the door and Kereth cracked it open. Hyara's mother slipped inside with a bulky, blanket-swathed bundle cradled carefully in her arms. The little room was cramped now, but no one minded; it had been filled to the bursting point many times in the past several days. Ahdreen beckoned to her daughter and set the bundle on the little table that had been pulled into the room as a base of operations for diaper changings and anything else. She pulled the blanket back and Hyara bit her lip to keep from exclaiming and waking the babies.

Resting cushioned on the blanket was a tabletop infant cradle made of translucent bluish crystal, faceted all around the surface in smooth planes of thumb-sized diamonds. It gleamed in the bright light from the window, but rather than casting a brilliant dazzle of prism light, it seemed to absorb the sun and glow softly from within, a tranquil, serene blue. It rocked gently when Hyara touched it, like the sway of a boat on a calm day.

"Thank you, Mother," Hyara whispered and threw her arms around her.

"They'll have to switch off," Ahdreen said apologetically, as if she feared the siblings would already have something to squabble about. "But you should have it. It came out of Oshu'gun, you know, the cradle I used when I was a baby. You and Gheris had your turns in it too."

"I remember it." It was one of those rare things her family had held onto over the years at any cost. She recalled staring at it as a child; the mysterious, tiny baby bed she had supposedly once fit inside, glowing a tranquil blue from its careful wrappings. It was an heirloom any draenei family would treasure dearly.

"I remember those!" Kereth breathed. "All the little babies lined up in the ship's nursery… By the spirits, who could have guessed there was still one around."

Hyara translated the Draenei conversation for Galmak and Serlah, and then Galmak, very carefully so as not to wake her, laid Morya in the ancient cradle. Her tiny face seemed to glow in the gentle light and she sighed very softly in her sleep.

"She makes it even more beautiful," Galmak said with a proud grin.

Hyara hugged her mother again and Ahdreen returned the embrace tightly. "It's from your grandfather too," the older woman said. "He wanted you to have it also. He's a little miffed he can't be in here, in fact, but I told him a nursing woman needs privacy."

"Oh, Mother, he could be in here now. They're sleeping."

"Oh no, he can't be in here because I've held them less than he has. I have my own selfish reasons for keeping him out, you see." She pointed inquiringly at Jorruk, a gesture which needed no translation, and Serlah passed him carefully over. Gheris had lamented that it had occasionally been awkward on the short journey that Ahdreen and Kuraal spoke no common language with Serlah and Lurigk, but it never seemed to be a problem in the cleft – there were always plenty of people around who could translate when needed.

"I think you will need to add a room to this house eventually, though, Hyara," Ahdreen continued in whispered Common. "We expect more where these two came from. You waited far too long as it is."

"It's not as if we weren't trying," Galmak said mischievously. Hyara pinched his arm. Ahdreen looked slightly taken aback for a moment but apparently chose to ignore the comment, instead examining Jorruk's little round face. His skin was a different shade than his sister's, with a bit more of Galmak's green.

"It's plenty big for now, Mother," Hyara said. "We're lucky we're not still in the inn." She smiled at Kereth, but the Broken woman waved off the comment.

"You would not still be in the inn in any case." Kereth shook her head in amusement. "You think we wouldn't have come together to build you a house as we did for the Marvers? It was just a little more convenient this way…" She smiled to herself and Hyara had to as well. Kereth had given her little house to them because she and Remta had gotten married. They'd at last been able to put a little of the past behind them and recognize the facts that were obvious to everyone else: they'd grown closer than ever in the past year and a half, and Oloru would have wanted them both to find happiness again after his death. It was a natural step for them and they'd finally been ready to take it.

Which led Hyara to other thoughts: another wedding would be happening soon. Gheris had finally, but not entirely unexpectedly to his sister, decided to take the plunge from bachelorhood to married life. He and Nayuula would be getting married at Karkun Kamil in about a week's time. That had been surprise enough when they'd shown up, but it hadn't ended there – someone else from Forest Song had insisted on coming along. Hyara hadn't quite believed her eyes when she saw Merok riding into Karkun Kamil along with her and Galmak's families, sitting astride that same old horse they'd found for him in Orgrimmar. The horse looked sleek and happy, if still not quite pretty; Merok looked grave and quiet as ever, but there was a new light of confidence and contentment in his eyes. He seemed unquestionably happier than when they'd last seen him, although just as hard-working as ever – he liked to spend his days in the cleft working in the little cliff gardens above the village.

As for the wedding, planning was in full swing, although there wasn't really very much to be done – it would be simple and small, in the little woods on the other side of the stream. Nayuula had no family left and so it hadn't been a difficult decision to have the wedding far from home, although there were a few friends who had promised to make the journey to Nagrand. Nice and quiet, Gheris had explained. That had made Hyara smile; clearly something really _was_ different now.

Yet another tap sounded at the door and Serlah crossed to see who it was. Gheris and Olkhor were outside this time. Gheris's head popped inside and he started to shuffle into the room, but apparently it was the final straw in a string of disturbances. Little Morya let out a fitful wail and flung a tiny fist in the air. As if by magic, Jorruk's eyes snapped open at the sound of his sister's cries.

"Now look!" Ahdreen scolded her son in a whisper, handing Jorruk back to Serlah.

"Oops," Gheris commented, but he didn't look very sorry – he was too busy grinning between his miniature niece and nephew. Behind him, Olkhor growled something and tried to poke him aside.

"I suppose they're hungry again," Hyara assessed as she scooped Morya out of the cradle. "They didn't have much before they fell asleep. I'll give it a try, anyway."

"Privacy then." Ahdreen placed a hand on Gheris's chest and pushed him firmly back out the door before following him herself. Serlah passed over Jorruk, who still hadn't made a sound but had only been gazing bright-eyed around at all the faces, and then she and Kereth also slipped back out the door.

"Gods, _very_ hungry," Galmak said, impressed, once Hyara had settled into a chair with the babies in her arms. They were wide awake now, eating as if they were starving, and their eyes flitted alertly between their parents.

"They have an orcish appetite," Hyara agreed teasingly.

Galmak settled down on his haunches beside the chair where he could see all three of the faces he loved. Hyara looked so content; he'd never seen or felt her quite like this before. He was immensely glad for that. Part of him had felt a little irrational guilt that she had to be the one to make all the physical sacrifices for the twins – she wouldn't even be able to go out with the routine hunting parties for quite a while, as they'd grown used to. They'd enjoyed that time together out in their native element of the wilds, but there was nothing that could compare with _this_, being here together with their children. Things would be different from now on. And that, he decided, would be just fine.

She could feel the direction of his thoughts and she couldn't resist another tease. "How does it feel to be fully tamed and domesticated, my wild hunter?"

He stared into her silver-blue eyes for a moment, then shared a kiss with those mischievous lips he loved so much.

"I don't know about _fully_ tamed and domesticated," he answered with a wide grin, "but I've never felt better in my life."

* * *


End file.
